The Vampire Vigilante BY JORDRE
by Jake Crepeau
Summary: Vampires and demons are known—at least to the military. A special unit has been formed to deal with "hostiles"—but it's not the most efficient or humane system conceivable. And not everyone involved is happy with that setup. Part 3 of "Nomen Vampyri Rex." Rated M for language, possibly disturbing imagery, and implied m/m relationships; vampires, don'tcha know.
1. Chapter 1

**The Vampire Vigilante**

**A/N:** Story starts about one year after the prologue for Rise of the Nightstalkers, and is 98% original characters. Pen-and-ink illustration for part three cover art found on internet as a clipart.

**A/N 2:** With thanks to my roommate (and beta), Jake; without her able input and encouragement, this story would never have been written. Begun 9/25/12; completed 10/16/12. Story is complete, and will be posted spaced out over several days.

**Disclaimer: (applies to all subsequent chapters; I'm not gonna write this over every time.) **All rights to _Buffy the Vampire Slayer _and_ Angel the Series_ belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy; Any humans and vampires that you might recognize are theirs. All others are mine; I'll put theirs back without too much damage when I'm done playing with them. Some situations referred to are taken from both _Buffy the Vampire Slayer _and_ Angel the Series, _but I'm too lazy to go looking them up to specifically footnote them. I originally read about the concept of the Vampiric Territories of North America in Yanagi_wa's wonderful story, _Ulterior Motives._ Other than that, if some item or situation sounds like something you wrote, please understand that I didn't intentionally take what was yours; it just apparently made enough of an impression to really stick in my brain.

Additionally, I have never been to Minneapolis, and have not even tried to be accurate with any street names or areas indicated; any resemblance to actual people or places is sheer coincidence.

**Prologue**

General Mitchell Payne closed the folder of the latest "vampire report" with an irritated grunt. He was trying hard—but failing—to control the urge to tell himself that it wasn't fair. It had been _his_ idea, two years earlier, to revive part of the old Initiative idea, to use demons for the good of humanity. They would use vampires to hunt down and help take out other, hostile demons around trouble areas like the St. Louis Hellmouth. It hadn't been easy, garnering support for his project, due to the debacle the original Initiative had turned into, and they had hit some major snags along the way. But he had persevered, and the project was established.

It had worked, too.

And then his associate, General Stuart Durgan, had decided to establish a _second_ vampire unit, modifying his idea to use vampires with military units. Only that second unit used its vampires against humans. Yes, they were used overseas, against insurgents and terrorists, but _that_ wasn't the point. _That_ wasn't what he fought so hard to keep from being pissed off about.

No, what he was _so_ torqued off about was the fact that Durgan's unit was so much more successful than his own. And he didn't know why.

The two setups were similar, from what he could tell from the reports. Both groups were housed in old, deserted facilities located underground. Durgan's were in an old ammo bunker in the backside-of-beyond of Fort Bragg; _his_ brainchild was in an old, abandoned missile-silo complex outside St. Louis for convenient access to the new Hellmouth that had opened near there. All the vampires were housed in cell-like quarters—he'd seen the plans for Durgan's setup, even though he'd never gone to see the place itself, so he knew that was the case. Both groups had the requisite office personnel, guards, and handlers for their vamps. Even their budgets and expense reports were comparable, allowing for unit size.

So _why_ was Durgan's group showing much higher success and achievement scores? If it wasn't the facilities, it must be the personnel themselves, he finally decided. Clearly _his_ project commander wasn't trying hard enough, or wasn't properly "encouraging" his people to get the best performance out of their charges.

He picked up the phone and had Colonel Heiser, the project commander, contacted. After forty-five minutes of "expressing his displeasure" with the unit's results, General Payne hung up, contented, certain that he'd lit a fire under the base commander's figurative tail. He was fully confident that matters would now improve to _his_ satisfaction; their efficiency ratings would increase, now that Heiser knew he was being monitored more closely.

~o~

In St. Louis, at Hunter Base, Colonel James Heiser stared at his phone in outrage as he was hung up on by his superior. He'd known from the start that this idiocy was a bad idea, but he'd made it work. Despite the very nature of the stupid brutes they had to work with, he'd had success. But that wasn't enough for the general—oh, no; _he_ was having some sort of pissing contest with one of his Pentagon chums.

So now, somehow, he, Heiser, had to up impossible efficiency ratings using uncooperative, vicious animals. Somehow he kept from screaming in rage as he thought about his operation. Finally he came to the conclusion that his handlers were just not forcing their charges to their best efforts. Yes, _that_ had to be the problem; they were being too easy on their animals.

He hated the vampires and demons, hated the very thought of their existence, and had found sympathetic listeners among some of the medical staff, who encouraged his attitude. So he took his complaints, and his feeling of under-appreciation, to them.

He did not bother looking to see which pairs had the best efficiency ratings, didn't trouble himself to look into the conditions his vamp-handler teams lived and worked under. He just took his ire and made their lives even more of a living hell than it already was. And the so-called medical staff rejoiced as the bonds that constrained their "practices" were loosened that much further.

**Chapter 1**

Slowly Rex limped back to where his handler sat on the ground, an armed soldier standing protectively over him. His human had a bloody lump on the side of his head, his helmet now lying split and useless on the ground ten feet away from him. Rex had taken out the demon responsible, _finally,_ but it had not been without price. Mason, the vampire from the other Hunter pair in their patrol, lay moaning on the ground, a long, ragged gash in his side bleeding sluggishly. _His_ handler was fine, due to the fact that the human had, quite literally, run from danger. The other soldiers feared to try to help the wounded vamp.

Rex settled to the ground beside Taylor, barely holding back an unhappy snarl. Ignoring his own injuries, he carefully turned Taylor's head, examining the lump more closely, another soldier helpfully shining a light on the injury for him. _Some of them have brains in their heads, _he thought, for this one, at least, didn't flinch away from him in fear. "Taylor?" he asked, keeping his voice soft so it wouldn't carry far in the now-quiet night. He held up the clichéd three fingers in front of his human's face. "How many fingers…"

"Three. Geez, my head _hurts!"_ Taylor responded with a groan, looking over at his Hunter. "What...?"

"He had a sword, Taylor; you are lucky he didn't take your head _off,_ instead of trying to split it like a ripe melon."

"How're the others?"

"Soldier-boys are patching up their own injured, but Mason…" He paused, hating to ask Taylor to do anything else due to his own injury.

"Where's his handler?" Taylor asked in resignation, suspecting at least part of the answer. Jones was the worst sort of bully: he'd take advantage of the helpless, but feared for his own skin too much to lend a hand to others if there was any risk to himself.

"Well away from the trouble here," Rex snorted in disgust. "Do you think you can help me with Mason? The others hesitate to approach him, since he is hurt."

"Yeah; just gimme another minute."

"Taylor, how're ya doin'?" another soldier asked as he walked over, careful to keep Taylor between himself and his unrestrained… Hunter.

"Okay, Lieutenant; just dizzy," Taylor answered unhappily, knowing that time was now running out for the other vampire. Kirby, this patrol's lieutenant, might decide that it would be easier just to stake the injured vamp rather than risk further damage to his people.

Lieutenant Kirby nodded, accepting that answer. He glanced briefly over at Taylor's Hunter. Yellow eyes glared back at him, but that was only to be expected this soon after an action, _and_ in the dark. "Your Hunter okay?" he asked, shifting his attention back to the handler.

"Yeah," Taylor answered with a groan as he tried to get up. "I think so; I'll look him over better, back on base. He hasn't _said_ anything's wrong, but I gotta see to the other one. Rex says he's hurt; it must be pretty bad, or he'd be up already."

"Will he let you?" Kirby asked in concern, not even bothering to ask why Mason's handler wasn't taking care of him, himself. He didn't relish the thought of any more of his patrol getting hurt, especially in the cleanup of an operation.

"Rex will see that he does," Taylor answered calmly, even as he wavered on his feet. He was seeing two of everything at the moment; he shook his head to try to clear it and realized that _that_ was a decided mistake. Only the Hunter's strong arms kept him from measuring his length on the ground; they did nothing to keep him from losing his dinner, though.

"You just sit there," Kirby said after they'd moved safely away from the mess. "Looks like you might have a concussion. I'll get someone else to look at Jones' Hunter."

"Let Rex help; we can't afford to lose any more trained Hunters, Lieutenant, and Mason's usually good on patrol," Taylor said, growing agitated now.

"Shh, Taylor, be still," Rex admonished softly, running a calming hand over the human's shoulders much as the man had done to him, back in the beginning. "I will help see to him, if you wish it. Just be calm, yes? We will get you back to base sooner that way."

Kirby just watched their interaction quietly. He'd seen it before, the bond between this pair. Most of the other guys didn't believe it when they'd heard of it, but he'd seen enough to know that this vamp, at least, truly cared about his handler. A couple of the other pairs were almost as close, but he'd figured out the key. In every case, it was initiated by concern shown by the human half of the pairing. It didn't happen overnight, but the men who really tried to do right by their inhuman charges eventually forged a good working relationship. And those were the pairs that the soldiers preferred to go out on patrol with. Of course, the officers in command of the unit and the base didn't believe any of this. They were convinced that only those control chips kept the vamps cooperating. They'd never seen what the front-line fighters had…

"Right," Kirby drawled, not approaching either Handler or Hunter. "C'mon then, Rex; let's see what we can do for the other Hunter. I'd rather not have to stake him if I can help it."

The two approached the wounded vampire, still sluggishly bleeding on the ground. He was weaker, barely moaning. And _now_ the handler, Jones, came swaggering over. The man froze momentarily when Rex snarled at him, fangs flashing, but he came on as he remembered that the vampire couldn't actually hurt him. He pulled out a stake, his intent clear, stopping in shock on the downstroke, as Kirby snatched it away from him.

"You're on report, Mister!" the lieutenant snapped out, his voice still barely above a whisper.

"Wha…?!" Jones gasped in shock, gaping at his patrol leader.

"Attempted destruction of government property, criminal negligence, and, possibly, desertion in the face of the enemy," Kirby listed, growing more satisfied as he went on. "And if you throw that punch at me, I'll be adding 'assaulting a superior officer' to the list. Get your ass back to the vans; we'll see to your Hunter."

Jones' attempt to snarl, Rex decided as he watched the confrontation in disdain, was pathetic. But then he turned his attention back to Kirby, ignoring Jones as the… man... slunk away from the scene of his humiliation, with his figurative tail between his legs. "He needs blood, sir." He forced the honorific out with difficulty. "He will start to heal then, but he has already lost too much."

"We don't have any," the lieutenant sighed. "He'll have to hold on 'til we get back to base. Just help me wrap him up, so we can go…" He pulled out several packets of bandages as he spoke, moving closer to the injured Hunter.

Rex shifted uneasily before slowly speaking. "Taylor carries some packets of blood, sir. In case…"

He didn't have to continue; Kirby understood that they were for Rex, in case _Rex_ got hurt like this. "Get them," he ordered, quietly watching as the Hunter obeyed with alacrity. Somehow it hadn't really surprised him to hear that there was blood available for Rex in Taylor's gear; he'd just make sure that the powers-that-be didn't learn of it. He could just _hear_ the shit hitting the fan if they did…

Then Rex was back, carrying two units of blood. Kirby held out his hand, expecting an argument, but the vampire quietly passed the bags over. Kirby was surprised, but made no comment, when he saw that they contained _human_ blood. Where, he wondered, had Taylor gotten them? That was something to ask about later, though. For now, he watched as Rex peeled the bloody uniform top back from Mason's torso and pressed the lips of the wound together as best he could, then supported the other vampire's shoulders so the human lieutenant could wrap the long lengths of bandaging around his body. It wasn't really necessary, but Rex had learned that the humans seemed to feel better doing such. Mason would get what was needed much quicker if he just helped the human without any argument.

Finally done with that task, Kirby picked up one unit of the blood, then looked at Rex. "Okay; how do I do this?" he asked, trying to convey the confidence he didn't feel.

Rex couldn't keep from grinning. This was someone they never saw down in the kennels; he truly had no idea how the vampires were fed. "Hold the bag down, just in front of his face," he instructed, idly playing with the thought of not warning the human… but he changed his mind as he realized that the man was trying to do right by one of his charges, whatever his own feelings about the vamps. "He will snap at it, so be warned; try not to pull back so he does not bite you by accident." Then he looked down at the injured Hunter in his arms. "Mason," he called, giving a slight shake to the near-comatose vampire. He frowned when he got no response, when the vampire showed no awareness of the nearby blood-bag. They were all weak from near-starvation, all except for the few who had handlers like Taylor, men who smuggled in additional blood supplies to supplement what they were officially allowed. Mason was not alert enough to sense the blood… With a sigh, Rex threw one look at the lieutenant, then, decision made, bit his own wrist, tearing the skin and letting his blood flow. He tipped Mason's head back, letting the blood drip into his mouth and rubbing his throat to make him swallow. He was worried when he got no response at first, but finally Mason swallowed on his own, then latched onto Rex's wrist and started to suck. Rex carefully detached the other vampire's fangs, then rubbed his slowly bleeding wrist on the bottom of the bag before licking his own wound closed.

Kirby watched curiously as the second vampire's eyes locked onto the blood-bag, and he moved towards the proffered food. The vamp froze just before biting it, looking at the human before him with something approaching terror.

"Hey, it's okay," the human said, moving the bag just a bit closer to the vampire's face. Still panicked, the vamp looked back at the one supporting him.

"Shh, Childe, it is all right," Rex crooned softly, resisting the urge to rock the younger vampire, or purr at him. "You are supposed to bite this bag; he wants you to feed. Go on, now; just bite gently, so you do not miss, yes?" He looked on in approval as the other vampire turned back uncertainly to the bag, then slowly, carefully, bit into the bloody area of it. Rex smiled at the lieutenant when that bag was emptied and the second accepted with less hesitation.

"Let me guess," Kirby said with a scowl. "Jones gives him a hard time when he feeds him."

"He would rather give him final death than food, had he the choice," Rex returned, unhappily admitting the truth. "He is not the only one, but he _is_ one of the worst."

The lieutenant nodded in understanding. "I'll see if I can do something about him, then. Can you get him up yet?" he asked, indicating the injured vampire and rising to his own feet.

"I will carry him, if you can help Taylor," Rex offered, although he hated the thought of someone else's hands on his Pet. They would get back to base more quickly that way, though.

"Do it," Kirby agreed, then headed back to where Taylor waited, the empty blood bags in his hands.

~oOo~

They had wanted to keep Taylor in the infirmary for observation, but he kicked up such a fuss that they finally relented, releasing him to his quarters with strict orders to rest. The quarters he returned to, however, were not the ones that they'd envisioned. Slowly, carefully, he lowered himself down to the mattress that now permanently resided on the floor of Rex's kennel. He only used his quarters these days to shower and change into fresh uniforms, and to let Rex wash up in a civilized fashion.

He turned his head carefully, as too rapid a movement still gave him severe vertigo, to check out his secured vampire.

"Are you feeling better?" Rex politely asked, sampling the air as he tried to assess his handler's condition for himself.

"Better? Yeah, somewhat. Could be worse, though," Taylor chuckled back, trying to reassure his charge.

"You should be in a hospital," Rex gently chided his Pet.

"Wouldn't rest there, so what's the point?" Taylor retorted with a sigh. "I can rest here just as well, an' I won't be worrying as much, so it's all to the good. 'Sides, I didn't get a chance to check you out properly. Are _you_ okay?"

"I will be fine; your lieutenant managed to acquire some additional blood for me, somehow. I will be all healed up by morning. He even took my gag off—and no, I did not 'vamp out' at him when he did," Rex grinned wickedly at his human, trying to make Taylor smile back. It worked; he could see the corners of his Pet's mouth twitch slightly as he tried to prevent said smile.

"This is so screwed up, y'know?" Taylor finally said, letting himself lie back quietly at last. "I don't know how they expect you guys to fight when they refuse to feed you right. I can see the others getting weaker and weaker; Mason should have been able to avoid that slash easily, as fast as I know you guys are normally. You can't give back a hundred-and-ten-percent effort when you're only getting thirty-percent support."

"Hush, Taylor; you need to rest," was all Rex would say as he slowly, gently, began to run his fingers through his human's hair. It was an odd reversal; normally Taylor did the petting when Rex was injured. But this was the first time that something had gotten past him to his handler, and he didn't like the feeling of guilt and failure that it gave him. He could understand Taylor's frustration better now, though, if this was the way he felt every time he couldn't do more for his charge. He continued his petting as Taylor's breathing evened out.

"How's he doing?" a soft voice called from the doorway.

"Sleeping, finally," Rex answered, looking up at their old friend, Miller. "He has a concussion, the lieutenant guessed as much. They wanted him in the hospital…"

"Just wake him up every two hours and make sure he knows who and where he is," Miller advised. "I figured I'd find him here, when they said they'd released him."

"He still worries that I will be attacked here," Rex admitted with a gentle smile. "It is not likely anymore, now that others sleep down here with us also..."

_"But_ he's a good handler, and he puts you first," Miller finished. "It's what makes you two such a good team."

"It is. But speaking of teams, how is Mason doing?" Rex asked in some concern.

"I think he's doing okay," Miller answered, but he sounded uncertain. "They have him in an isolated secure wing to heal, since they have to feed him more heavily. He should be out in a week or so, they said."

"And that filth that deserted him?" Rex asked, his eyes flashing gold briefly, but that was as far as he'd let himself go.

"Dishonorable discharge is what I heard them talking about." Graham's voice was grim. "Desertion in the face of the enemy and endangering his unit. No mention of his attempt to stake H394V, though." Despite all the time he'd spent with the vampire/handler teams, Miller still didn't refer to most of the Hunters by their names when speaking of official matters, although he knew all of them.

"Good; that will keep the rest of us from having to, figuratively, frag him," Rex said with no little satisfaction.

"How'd you expect to do that, chipped?" Miller asked curiously.

"It would have been harder with him, since he is prone to running from danger, but it would not have been infeasible to put him in the way of a hostile, then see that it was fatal. Believe me, it is a lot harder to keep a patrol's humans safe during a fight," Rex said fervently, his eyes hard chips of gold as he thought of the bully. _"He_ got Taylor hurt; he was not in the position he was supposed to be, and I could not get back to Taylor in time to prevent this."

Miller looked down at the sleeping handler and nodded in understanding. "Just take care of him, Rex. I'll bring your breakfast down, and something for him to eat, once he can hold it down. You need anything right now?"

"We are good here. Thank you, Miller," Rex politely responded as he turned his attention back to his sleeping Pet. He paid no heed when Miller turned and left them alone once more.

~oOo~

A week later, Miller and Taylor sat at a table outside a coffee shop in downtown St. Louis. They had a pass—their whole unit's human combatant contingent did, and they had been chased off-base to enjoy themselves and the early spring sunshine. The two men had become close friends over the preceding months, and had split off from the main group of servicemen right after getting off the bus into town..

"Mind if I join you?" a man said as his shadow fell across their table. Taylor didn't know him, but Graham's face lit up in recognition.

"Riley!" he called out in greeting, his face lit with a huge smile of welcome. "What're you doing in St. Louis? I thought you were up north somewhere."

"I was, sorta," Riley answered, sitting down in an empty chair that Miller had pushed out for him. "This isn't an accident, Gra, meeting here, I mean. I've been… dispatched by someone in DC to come ask some questions around here, so I came looking for you in particular. I know—more or less—what kinda project you're working on; my boss started something similar, but still has concerns about your group."

"Uh, Riley, I don't think this is something we should be—"

"Hell, Graham, he sent me to find and talk to Hostile Seventeen about this last year, for God's sake! And he's been down here once already, checking you guys out. But he's got some concerns, like I said."

"I do remember a general coming through last year, Graham," Taylor cautiously volunteered. "He kinda stuck in my mind, 'cause he was the only really big brass we've seen there, before _or_ since. Besides, you mentioned something called 'Hostile Seventeen' before this, 'way back when…"

"What does he want to know, Ri?" Miller asked carefully, yielding finally. His eyes darted all around the area immediately surrounding their table now, watching for anyone who might be interested in their conversation.

"He had a second group formed, but they—hell, they pretty much volunteered for duty. They go out with regular Spec Op groups, against terrorists." Riley Finn leaned back in his seat as he talked, looking totally relaxed, although he kept his voice down. To any observers, this was just a casual conversation among a group of friends.

Miller and Taylor were stunned at that news. _"Volunteers?"_ Taylor asked, amazed at the thought.

Finn nodded. "Yeah—hard to believe, I know. Anyway, my general's been keeping an eye on the reports coming in from your group, and _he_ says that, although your efficiency ratings had been slowly sinking all along, they've suddenly taken a nosedive. What's been going on, anyway?"

Taylor snorted in disgust. "What _hasn't?_ The base commander hates his assignment, the second-in-command hates the thought of vamps, the medical staff would love to see why some of the pairs work _so_ much better than others—by doing experiments on the vamps, or cutting them open—and almost all of our administrative types refuse to accept that our vamps have a brain to reason with, let alone possess any sort of feelings, like loyalty or caring. And they're starving our Hunters, to 'motivate' them to hunt and take out quarry."

"They're starving the vamps?" Riley looked between the two men, aghast.

"Yeah. Oh, they let us feed them," Taylor sneered, on a roll now that he'd started to vent his spleen. "We can give 'em pig or cow blood, but it's barely enough to keep them alive, although _they_ insist they're getting enough. They're getting thinner, weaker, and _slower._ More of them are getting hurt now when they take something down on patrols, and _we're_ starting to get hurt more, because our Hunters just don't have the reserves they need. Some of us have been getting rejected blood units from the Red Cross for them, but we can't get enough to help all of them."

"Riley, it's bad enough that some of the handlers _still_ sleep down in their vamps' kennels to protect them from assault—and to keep Medical from 'appropriating' them for unscheduled 'exams,'" Miller added, shaking his head in disgust.

"I'm worried about Rex," Taylor admitted unhappily. "They've been eyeing him in particular lately—we've got the highest take-down record of the whole unit. The guys _like_ going out on patrol with us because he tries to watch out for _all_ of us, unlike some of the other vamps. Tell ya the truth, Gra, I've been trying to figure out how to smuggle him out of there to safety if I ever hear any _rumors,_ even, of them coming after him," Taylor finished softly, looking at his two companions in defiance.

Riley Finn looked at the young sergeant consideringly. "There's gear been developed for the other group," he said slowly, "that lets them operate outside in daylight safely. _I_ don't know what they did about chipping those vamps or not, but I would assume that any implanted chips are disabled for patrols, since they're used against humans—most effectively, I've heard." Then, carefully looking off into space as if not noticing his rapt audience of two, he went on, "I've also heard it theorized that a nice, big degausser, used at full power, will disable such computer and GPS chips as certain military units are suspected of using occasionally. Without, they say, harming the hostile implanted with such a theoretical chip. Or so I've heard speculated," he finished, looking back at his companions.

"What kind of protective gear?" Taylor asked, not even trying to look nonchalant.

"What size would a vamp like yours wear, in uniforms?" Riley responded with another question. "Maybe I can get Master Ripper to send a set out to you—for a field trial, all very unofficial and on the QT. After all, his group _is _a top-secret, full-black operation."

"Rex is about the same size as Taylor, here," Graham told his friend, gratitude in his eyes. "He's a good guy, for a vamp, that is. What they're doing to these guys is _almost_ as bad as the old Initiative, only a lot slower, and without the vivisection—so far, anyway. Medical's pushing for it, though, I think."

"Shit. General Durgan's gonna have a shit-fit over this," Finn growled in disgust. "Look, guys; I hate to cut this short, but the sooner I get back to DC, the sooner he can start looking into this seriously. Watch your backs, okay?"

"Wilco. It was good to see you again, Ri," Miller said, shaking hands with his former teammate as the other man rose from the table. Taylor exchanged nods with him, then Riley Finn was gone.

Miller looked at his friend and huffed a sarcastic laugh. "Well, _that_ was fun—not. I just hope we haven't kicked over the proverbial hornets' nest."

"We had to do _something,_ Gra," Taylor commented unhappily. "It's getting bad down in vamp territory; I'm just afraid it's gonna get worse before it can get any better."

Somehow the day was no longer as warm, nor as bright, as it had been before their surprise visitor came into their lives. No longer enjoying the day off, Taylor felt an urgent need to get back to his vamp once more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Taylor could feel a storm gathering. Several days had passed since they'd been in St. Louis, and there had been no overt changes, but even the vamps were restless today. He watched as Rex bit into his blood-bag with particular violence, and frowned. "What's up, buddy?" he asked once the Hunter had finished draining his meager ration. The vampire glared at him, and Taylor was beginning to think that he wasn't going to get an answer, but finally he spoke.

"We heard the guards talking—you _do_ know that a lot of them have it in for us, yes? They are pleased with the latest 'disciplinary' decision."

"What are you talking about, Rex? What decision?" Now Taylor was confused; _he_ hadn't heard anything new lately—or he hadn't been told, intentionally, he mentally corrected himself. He frowned, feeling his anger grow, although he didn't know why.

"You have not been told?" Rex watched his handler shrewdly, seeing the suspicion dawning in his human's eyes. "I am not surprised; you are probably not the only one either, then. The guards were saying that they mean to neuter us, so we would cause less trouble." He couldn't help sneering; all this time, and the guards _still_ didn't know the vampires could hear them, even whispering at the far end of the corridor, and _these_ hadn't bothered to try to keep their voices down. As he spoke, he could hear some of the other vampires warning their respective handlers—the ones who cared.

"That's insane!" Taylor nearly shouted, appalled that anyone here would even consider such a barbarous act. "You're not dumb animals… When? Did they say? Believe me, I'll fight this stupidity tooth and nail, Rex."

"I believe that you will _try_ to protect me," Rex allowed, but he scowled, nearly snarling. "You cannot fight orders, not for long. And we will not live like that for long. Your chips have taken away as much of our pride as we can bear; this will be the last straw for most of us."

"Ah, shit, Rex—don't do anything stupid, _please,"_ Taylor pleaded, his eyes burning. He grasped his vamp's shoulders, trying to get through just how concerned he was about this, willing the vampire to understand how much he cared.

But the vampire shook his head, his eyes gentler. _"I_ will not live, should they do that to me. I do not blame _you,_ Taylor; I know you will hold them off as long as you can, but you cannot fight them alone forever."

"Yeah, well—let's see what I can do, at least. I may know someone who can help. They're not gonna do that to you, Rex. I swear it. But come on. I want a shower, and I'm sure you do, too. I won't leave you alone until I can fix this.

So saying, Taylor unlocked Rex's tether chain and led him from his kennel, not neglecting to put up the placard he'd made that stated they were in Taylor's quarters for "personal hygiene."

Rex was in the shower, and Taylor had just finished dressing after his when a knock came at his door. It surprised him; most everyone in his unit knew he was rarely there, so they looked for him down in Vamp Country. But he went and opened the door anyway. The young soldier there was not one Taylor had ever seen before.

"Here, this came for you," the private said before Taylor could ask what he wanted. He passed over the bulky package, along with a stack of mail. "I brought the rest of your mail too—save you a trip," the kid added helpfully. He threw a curious look past Taylor into the room; looking back over his shoulder, Taylor saw Rex in the bathroom doorway, dripping water all over the floor as he stared at the door intently. Although still in his human mask, his protective stance was readily discernible. Looking back to the private, Taylor saw the kid's eyes widen as the collar Rex wore registered.

"Yeah, thanks muchly," Taylor quickly said, taking the package from what was obviously just a mailroom clerk. "Hang on a mo'…" He fished out his wallet and pulled out a ten, giving it to the kid. "Here. Look, don't go talking about him, okay? The brass knows I bring him up here to wash up, but no one else is supposed to know about him, got it?" (1)

The kid nodded, but Taylor just shut the door in his face, cutting off any thanks or other reply he might have given. He turned to face the naked vampire.

"Oops…?" Rex said cautiously, not certain how Taylor would react.

Taylor looked at him, then burst out laughing. "Did you see his _eyes?"_ he gasped, finally pausing to draw breath. He shook his head, then went and put the mail down and bent to open the package.

Rex went back and shut off the water in the shower, then got some towels to wipe up the puddle he'd left on the floor. It was beneath a Master Vampire's dignity to do menial housekeeping chores, but there were no minions here, and it wasn't fair to expect his Pet to have to clean up the mess that he'd made. The floor and himself dry at last, he went over to see what Taylor had gotten.

He quickly lost interest when he saw that it was just another uniform like the ones they already had. He turned away to dress as Taylor went through some papers and cards that had been enclosed with it; no doubt advertisements or packing lists, or some such rubbish, the vampire thought. Taylor looked excited, though, and relieved for some reason.

"Huh!" Taylor suddenly exclaimed as he looked through the papers more closely, then up at his vamp. "This says that your human name was Julius Alexander—that right, Rex?"

"What do you have there, Taylor?" Rex demanded, shocked at hearing that name once more, a name he had thought to be long buried in the past. He started to reach for the papers, but Taylor pulled them back.

"No, don't; this is too important to destroy, Rex," he cautioned, worried at his Hunter's pissed-off reaction.

But now the vampire just looked hurt. "I was not going to destroy anything," he protested, pulling back himself and finishing dressing before saying anything further. "I have not used that name in over a hundred years, Taylor. Not since the night I was turned. My Sire said it was too pretentious… You do not want to know _what_ he called me for decades after that, until I had earned a new name. _I_ chose 'Rex,' and he could not argue anymore, since by then I was much stronger than he. I always swore I would not treat my own Childer the way he treated me—and I did not."

Taylor was intrigued. "You have Childer?" he asked, unconsciously leaning towards the vamp eagerly.

But Rex replied shortly, "Yes," and refused to say any more on the topic. He watched as, with a sigh, Taylor carefully folded up the new uniform around another bulky little box and all the papers, then placed the whole pile in the bottom drawer of his dresser.

"Let's go; we've been up here long enough," Taylor sighed as he reached for Rex's collar with a leash. "They're gonna come looking for us soon."

Rex nodded and submitted to the indignity of the leash as he always did. Now was_ definitely_ not the time to cause trouble.

~oOo~

Over the course of the following week, three of the more unruly Hunters were taken away for neutering. Their handlers protested—or one did, anyway—but to no avail. They were depressed when they were returned to their kennels, very subdued, which Taylor found understandable. The soldiers were all shocked when, the first time one of those vamps was taken out on a patrol, he just stood in the path of their targeted hostiles and let himself be dusted. A number of the humans in that patrol were hurt because the other Hunter couldn't handle all the demons by himself; he spent a number of days in the security wing receiving human blood so he could heal up afterwards.

The brass, naturally, claimed it was just an anomaly, that the others would not do anything like that. So two more vamps were castrated, including their biggest troublemaker, the one called Edward.

And two soldiers died the night they took Edward and one of the other neutered vamps out on patrol together. Both of the Hunters committed "suicide by hostile," as the soldiers called it. Back in the kennels, Rex suddenly howled with grief, but it would be much later that night before Taylor would learn that that had been the moment that Edward had dusted. Right then, all he could do was gather his distraught Hunter into his arms and rock him, petting his hair and crooning softly to him.

The medical staff learned that three of the remaining Hunters had reacted adversely at the precise moment of the deaths; their "professional curiosity" was aroused to dangerous levels. They couldn't get near two of those vampires—that Sergeant Taylor guarded _his_ vamp like he was the guy's virgin sister in a whorehouse. But the Hunter called Mason, H394V, hadn't been assigned a regular handler yet since his last one had been court-martialled. He was moved into a different wing, to the concern of the rest of the vampires.

Taylor noticed, and made inquiries, but he could learn nothing about the missing Hunter's fate. He kept Rex even closer than before, bringing the vampire to the mess hall with him for all meals now. They were at lunch when Rex, who had been sitting quietly on the floor at his feet, gave a moan of anguish and leaned against Taylor's legs.

"What's the matter, Rex?" Taylor asked quietly, trying to draw as little additional attention as possible.

"Mason is dead," Rex answered softly, fighting to gather his composure once more. He looked up at Taylor, his eyes yellow instead of full of tears as the human had expected. "They have killed another of my Childer."

Taylor froze, but asked no more questions. He didn't look around, but just went back to eating his lunch. He could feel eyes on him and Rex; time, he knew, was running out for his Hunter.

~o~

He looked up Miller after lunch. "Graham, will you vamp-sit for me for a couple of hours?" he asked once he'd found the SpecOps captain. "I have a few errands to run in town today, but I don't want to leave Rex unprotected."

"Don't blame you in the least," Miller replied sourly. The frontline soldiers hated what was being done to the Hunters; even the ones that had been against using the vampires had become attached to most of them as time passed. "I'll watch him for you. I'll get some of the guys, get a poker game going. They won't get near him."

"Thanks, Gra. I really appreciate it," Taylor said, passing the vampire's leash over to the other human. Rex scowled briefly, but followed obediently as Miller led him away.

Taylor watched him go, then went to find one of the other men, who had a car and an afternoon pass.

"Ken, do me a favor?" Taylor called in greeting. "You're going into town today; can you give me a lift? I got a pass, so I think I'm finally gonna bite the bullet and get myself a car."

~oOo~

It took some looking, but finally Taylor found what he wanted on the third "lemon-lot" he went to: a four-year-old Ford Expedition, two-toned medium and dark blue, with heavily tinted windows all around. He would have been happier if it had been a solid color, but it wasn't all that memorable, and its odometer showed fairly low mileage for its age. The body had some dings and scratches, but it had a set of four new tires, and the engine purred like a kitten. He signed the title papers, under the name Julius Alexander, claiming that it was a birthday present for a nephew about to turn seventeen in a week.

Paperwork in hand, he went to the bank and secured a loan with no difficulty, since he was able to put down over half the cost of the vehicle from his savings. Hazardous duty pay and a low-key lifestyle had piled cash up faster than he'd realized. Insurance was high, but manageable; it would have been high anyway, since he was still under twenty-five himself. The longest delay was in getting the thing registered, but he got in just before the DMV closed for the afternoon. Grinning widely, he drove his new car back to the base.

The MPs at the gate stopped him, naturally, but since he had all his ID in order, they gave him a temporary pass until he would have a chance to get the right stickers for the car. He drove it down into the underground parking garage and parked it near an exit, but away from the security cameras, then went inside and over to his quarters.

He was stopped, coming out of his room carrying a pile of camping gear. "Hey, Taylor, whatcha doin', man?" Lenny Caruso called out, causing other heads to turn his way.

Taylor swallowed a silent curse and smiled back. "Bought a car; figured I'd go camping one of these weekends, so I'm moving my gear down to it. I mean, why waste storage space up here, y'know?"

"Hey, good idea, man; I might put in for time off like that myself," Lenny returned, seeming taken with the idea. "Any idea where?"

"I hear the Great Smokies are pretty. I've never been there, and they're not that far away," Taylor embroidered his story further, carefully _not_ saying whether that would be his actual destination.

"Oh, hey, yeah; Dollywood!" someone else laughed back, and everyone went back to what they'd been doing, paying Taylor no further attention. Caruso slunk off by himself, a little faster than normal. Taylor moved on down the corridor without any more impediments, but he was sweating inside. He wouldn't relax until he was back with Rex and knew that he was all right.

Coolers, tarps, and a tent packed into the SUV, he went back long enough to retrieve his sleeping bag and stuff the folded-up uniform from his dresser into a small gym bag. Once those had been added to the packed gear in the car, he went in search of Miller and his Hunter.

He found Graham and three of the other guys from Miller's squad in their dayroom, Rex sitting beside them with quite a pile of chips in front of him. He looked up at Taylor with a welcoming smile, but it was Miller who spoke first.

"Don't ever play poker with him for real money, Rob; he'll clean you out. He's one helluva poker player," Miller said with a laugh, echoed by the other men at the table.

"Noted," Taylor laughed back, relaxing at the easy looks on everyone's faces. "I take it that Medical gave you no problems?"

"Nah, although Major Greene said he wanted to see you when you got back." There was a hint of warning in Miller's voice now.

It was all Taylor could do not to stiffen in response; after all, it might be nothing. "Okay," he said, looking Rex in the eyes and getting a slight nod in response. He turned his attention back to Miller. "You mind watching him a bit longer?"

"Not a problem. You know where to find us."

"Right." Then Taylor turned and walked out. The other men might not have realized it, but he knew that Rex, at least, would have smelled his fear. Thank God he hadn't wasted any time, he thought with a fervent prayer.

~o~

"You wanted to see me, sir?" he asked once he'd been shown into Major Greene's office.

"Yeah. You've got quite a lot of leave time accrued, Taylor," he said, getting right to the point. "I'm given to understand that you rarely even take a pass into town; concerns have been expressed over your health. Medical wants you to take at least a week off—two would be better, they said—and go somewhere."

"Sir," Taylor carefully answered, "I just don't feel right, going off and leaving Rex behind. He's used to me; he'd still work for someone else, but we… kinda click together, if you know what I mean. You gonna let me take him off base for such an extended time?"

"Your Hunter will remain here; he'll be just fine while you're gone, Sergeant." Greene refrained from snapping at the soldier before him only by a great effort. He could see what the doctor had meant, how Taylor was fixated on that vampire. "I understand that you like to go camping; I want you gone by noon tomorrow," the major continued resolutely.

Taylor took a deep breath. "Sir…"

Greene cut him off. "You're going, and you're taking two full weeks, is that clear, soldier?"

"Yessir," Taylor replied, adding, "Good thing I just bought a car today, then. But sir? If I have to be gone so long, I'd rather fly back to LA to visit my folks, if it's all the same to you. Could you give me a day or so to make arrangements and get a ticket?"

Major Greene's features relaxed at this sign of acceptance. "Sure, son, if that's where you want to go. Let my clerk know, but I want you gone by Saturday; that's three days, Sergeant."

"Yessir; I'll let your office know as soon as I arrange a flight," Taylor responded, coming to attention and leaving at Greene's muttered dismissal. _Shit,_ he thought, covering his fear. They would be watching him now… Hell, they already _were,_ he realized. That suggestion of a camping trip, coming right when it did, stank to high heaven. Frantically planning, he headed back to the dayroom to retrieve Rex.

~o~

Miller was alone with the vampire when he got there. "Hey, where'd everybody go?" Taylor asked, although he suspected the answer.

"Chow; it's dinner time," Graham laughed back. "So, what'd Greene want?"

"Mandatory leave; _he_ suggested I go camping for two weeks. I told him I'd rather fly home instead." Taylor was trying to act normally, as if it didn't really matter to him; after all, they probably had the place bugged. "I'll check the airlines for flights tonight on the Internet; we're not scheduled to go on patrol. He gave me 'til Saturday to get gone; I think I can do that. I don't have too much stuff I need to take; I still have some civvies at home. I'll just have to see that Rex gets a shower before I leave."

"Sounds like a plan," Miller agreed. "I'll keep an eye on him while you're gone," he offered. "He knows me; we shouldn't have any problems."

"Thanks, Gra; I appreciate that," Taylor said, knowing that the vampire would not be anywhere near there, after Saturday. And _he_ would be in one hell of a lot of trouble.

~oOo~

The cheapest flight he could find was for omygod in the morning on Sunday. Major Greene gave him an extension for it, pleased that Taylor seemed to have yielded so easily. Atypically, Taylor spent the intervening evenings playing pool with the guys, knowing that Medical would wait until he was well away before absconding with Rex, so the vampire would be safe. It might have been against regulations, but they played for money, and Taylor was very, _very_ good at it. The guys paid up with good grace, figuring that he was accumulating extra cash for his leave—everyone knew about _those_ orders, it seemed. There were surprised looks when they heard how willing to go he seemed to be, but then, orders were orders.

Saturday morning, while they were out running the course for PT, Graham Miller pressed six thousand dollars in cash—all small bills—into Taylor's hand. "We took up a collection, the guys and me," Miller told the stunned handler. "For you two."

"I'm not going, Gra," Taylor said, drawing a deep breath to defend his actions to his friend. "He'll be able to disappear better without me, and I refuse to run away like a coward. I'm gonna let them find me quickly, so I can divert their search."

"Rob," Miller started to argue, then stopped himself. "You're probably right. Take the money anyway; at least it'll help ensure that you're not throwing yourself on your sword for nothing."

"Thanks. I _have_ to do this, you know?" Taylor asked, sighing at Miller's nod, then looking at him carefully. "You know about Childer? A vampire's 'offspring'? Well, Rex used to have at least two here; they were probably caught with him. I don't know if there are any others; I've been careful not to ask. But those two that I do know about—they're dead, and it's our fault—or Medical's, at least. Edward and Mason were his kids, Gra; an' _that's_ why they're really after him now, I'm sure of it. They wanna cut him up to see how he knew when they died, and I _know_ they won't learn a damn thing before he dusts. Shit, I sound like a girl now." Taylor looked away, disgusted with himself.

"No, you don't; you sound like someone worried about a teammate. When are you going? Need any help?" Graham asked his friend as he urged him into motion once more.

"I'm gonna take early chow at noon, then take Rex out for a shower; I've done that lots of times before, so it shouldn't raise any red flags. Only he won't be going back to the kennels. I'll dust him myself, if I can't get him off base. I'm not due to leave until tonight, and no one will even look for him until evening feeding."

"I can buy you some more time, if you want," Miller offered, but Taylor just shook his head.

"Thanks, but no sense in you tanking your career over this. In fact, it might be best if you were the one to raise the alarm right after mess tonight. He'll be long gone by then."

"In daylight?" Miller asked, then stopped and smiled as he realized how Taylor would manage it: Riley had come through for them, at least in part. "They'll waste all night, searching the base for him if I call the alert just before dark. That'll buy him a _lot_ of time."

"Works for me," Taylor said with a laugh, his heart lighter. "They won't have to look far for _me_. Don't worry, Graham; I know exactly what I'm doing. And it's for the best, really. C'mon, I need a shower, and I still have some packing to do."

In silence the two men finished their run, then parted, each to his own quarters and preparations.

~oOo~

Taylor left the noon mess with a smile and a laugh, telling any who asked of his plans to clean up his vamp and then catch some Z's before his flight. He got the anticipated ribbing from the guys, no one in the know letting on that anything was up. He brought Rex up to his quarters as usual, letting the vampire shower and dress.

Rex looked at his human, smelling the tension in him, hearing his faster-than-normal heartbeat. Something was up; Taylor was not deserting him as he'd feared. He followed quietly at Taylor's heels when they left the room, not pausing at all when the human turned down a different hallway partway back instead of returning to the kennels.

He realized what was up when they exited into a large underground parking garage. Still silent, he climbed into the back seat of a large SUV with darkly tinted windows, and folded himself down onto the floor behind the front seats when told to do so. Taylor piled some gear on top of him, covering him completely, then got in and started the Expedition.

Taylor slowed at the gate, but no one asked to see any orders; he never even rolled the window down, so he didn't register on any cameras. Then they were gone.

He drove halfway around the base along back country roads, until he reached the heavily shaded area he'd been heading for. Carefully he uncovered the vampire, allowing him to sit up in the back seat. "Okay, Rex," he said, pulling out a bag and opening it, taking out some clothes. "Put these on; they're sun-proof, specially made for military vamps. I've got something to set up while you're doing that." He left the vampire to that, opening the other, smaller box that had been in that mysterious package he'd received. Rex watched, curious, as the human popped the hood of the car and attached cables to the battery and to something he held in his hand. "Dressed?" Taylor called, looking over. "Okay; there's an attached hood. Pull it up and come here, but watch out for the sun."

Rex obeyed, wondering what this was all about. He stood as directed while his human ran the odd device, which was humming madly, over and around his head. He felt dizzy for a moment, but that quickly passed. Another small device was waved in his direction, then Taylor smiled and disconnected the cables. "One more thing," the human said, waving him back over to the driver's seat and closing the hood again. He came around and pulled a set of heavy bolt cutters from the rear of the car, then, with a loud _snap,_ he cut through the ring that had been welded shut when the collar had been secured on the vampire. "Okay," he said, looking Rex in the eyes. "You're free. The collar's off. You have a car with a full tank of gas, that's registered in your old human name; a valid driver's license, and," he took a deep breath, "your control and GPS locator chips have been disabled. Run far and fast, Rex; have a good unlife. Here's the paperwork you need for the car, and cash to pay for gas and stuff. Be careful. I'll miss you…" He turned away, unable to say more, and not knowing what to expect from this now-dangerous vampire…

Rex stared at the human… _his_ human. He had done this for him; his Pet was destroying his career for him. Vamping out with a snarl, Rex grabbed hold of his Pet and spun him around. He was rougher than he'd meant to be when he pulled the neck of the man's shirt down, but he was careful when he bit down at the junction of his neck and shoulder to place his claim-mark. He didn't drink much, pulling back and cutting his tongue on his own fangs before licking the wound closed. Through it all, Taylor made no attempt to resist him. _"Mine!"_ he declared, staring Taylor in the eyes.

He hadn't really expected any sort of confirmation, so he smiled warmly when Taylor responded, "Yours." The smile faded when the human continued, "I have to go back, Rex; you need the time I can buy you. And they won't look as hard for you, alone, as they would if I was with you, or if they thought I might be dead.

"There's four packs of whole blood in the cooler, and cash—I said that already—and a current map of the US with all the major highways. You shouldn't need gas until after dark; that car has a _huge_ gas tank. Go on, now; git. I have to get back to base, hopefully unseen. Just follow this road 'til it ends, then turn left; that'll take you to the Interstate. I don't want to know where you're going; can't tell what I don't know. Just be careful, okay?"

_"You_ be careful, also, my Pet," Rex said, his voice gentle as he ran a hand over Taylor's hair now. "Look after Corey, if you can. He is the last of my Childer."

"Can't promise," Taylor said, knowing it would most likely be impossible—he'd soon be in the brig, he had no doubts.

"I know. But be careful all the same. Someday, somehow, I _will_ get you back. And that _is_ a promise," Rex told his human, then climbed into the car, started it, and left Taylor behind.

~o~

He cut his way in through a back section of the base's perimeter fence and made it all the way back to his quarters, ditching the bolt cutters along the way. It was just before nightfall when the MPs found him there, sitting quietly on his bed. And Taylor smiled as they slapped the handcuffs on him, knowing that _his_ vampire, at least, was safe from them at last.

**Notes**

(1) Yes, we know that military postal clerks do not deliver mail or packages to individual rooms. UPS will deliver packages directly to one's door, but this _is_ a classified facility, and they probably wouldn't let the truck much past the front gate. They would most likely call someone from the mailroom to pick up the package; and maybe the kid was just feeling like performing an "act of random kindness" that day.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Captain Miller sat in his quarters, hoping he'd have enough time to complete his self-appointed task. Carefully he opened his cell phone to remove the SIM card; he replaced that with a brand-new one, to send a text message:

_Ri – MD plotting to get Rx__. T found out; released Rx__. T awaiting CM. Tell your gen. Do not try to call me. Gra._

He sent that to Riley Finn, then pulled out that SIM card and replaced the original one. Listening carefully a moment to make sure no one was outside his door, he dropped the card he'd just used to the floor and stomped it into tiny pieces, which he carefully swept up and cleaned off the bottom of his shoe, then flushed down his toilet. They could check his phone all they wanted now; it was clean.

It was all he could do to help Taylor.

~oOo~

Taylor stood before Major Green, Colonel Heiser, and Colonel (Dr.) Wu with a smile in his heart, although he managed to keep it off his face. He'd been there three hours already.

"Where is the vampire H386V?!" Wu demanded once more in frustrated fury.

"I don't know, sir," Taylor answered, then decided that enough was enough. "I don't know, and even if I did, you'd be the _last_ one I'd tell. He's well away from your butchers, and that's what counts. Sir," he tacked on at the end, adding insult to injury.

"We have no reading on his GPS locator; what did you do to it, Sergeant?" Heiser snarled at him; Taylor just looked at him complacently, silently.

"Sergeant, you _do_ realize that that was a dangerous animal you just turned loose?" Greene asked, trying for a more reasonable tone, since no one else was making any headway.

Taylor looked at him with disdain in his eyes. "With all due respect, Major, I suggest that the dangerous killers are here on this base, wearing medical insignia. Our Hunters have been doing what we've asked 'em to, despite being systematically starved by _your_ orders, on Medical's recommendations. The most successful Hunters are the ones that are being given extra blood, although it's still not really enough for 'em. _Then_ you have 'em castrated like they're some sort of dumb animal—"

"They _are_ dumb animals!" Wu exploded, slamming his fist down on the desk that stood between the three officers and the prisoner.

"They are rational, feeling, _intelligent_ beings," Taylor returned, not cowed by the head doctor's outburst. "They cared enough to commit fuckin' suicide when you had them gelded. To top _that_ off, you act all surprised by that. And then you kill a perfectly good, cooperative Hunter to find out why he was upset when his… sibling, I guess is the closest equivalent—when his sibling dusted. What sort of heartless morons are you people, anyway?"

Wu was nearly purple with rage, and Heiser was not much better off. Greene, though… "Son, you'd best watch your mouth. Maybe you don't realize just what sort of trouble you're in right now," he said, his voice still calm.

Taylor grinned at him. "Oh, I do realize, sir; I'm up to my neck in shit, an' no way to climb out. Truth, sir? I'm not even trying. They killed two of Rex's Childer—that's what the vamps call their offspring. Cutting him open isn't going to reveal _how_ he knew it, any more than it shows how a dead human body can be animated by a demon to make a vamp in the first place. It just _is._ And vamps care about their kids, just like we do—well, in a vampy sort of way."

"That is beside the point, Sergeant," Greene snarled, finally losing his temper. "Where is he?"

"I honestly have absolutely no idea, Major," Taylor insisted. "I was in my quarters; he wasn't there with me, obviously, when the MPs came. I didn't see where he went, since my door was closed. Besides, we're underground."

"He has to be here somewhere," Wu lowered his voice slightly, but he was still spitting mad. "He can't have left the base; the sun was still up when he was found missing, and there was no shelter for him anywhere nearby."

"We'll find him, don't worry," Colonel Heiser said through clenched teeth. "The base was sealed _before_ the sun went down, so he won't get out. And then he's all yours, Doctor," he added with a vicious sneer at Taylor.

Taylor just grinned back at the furious base commander. "Good luck with that," he said, then refused to say another word.

In a towering rage, Heiser called the MPs in to remove Taylor and lock him up. If the colonel had _his_ way, that upstart sergeant would never see the light of day as a free man again.

~oOo~

Six hours to the north, Rex was tooling along the Interstate, heading towards Minnesota. The information on the driver's license Taylor had given to him listed his home address as somewhere in Minneapolis; that was as good a place to go first as any, he thought. Though the days were longer now, it was still dark well before he needed to refuel; he drank down one of his units of blood behind the rundown convenience store he'd stopped at. To keep up appearances, he got some snacks and a cup of coffee when he went inside to pay for his fuel; no one there gave him a second glance.

A little further down the road, he pulled into a rest area to study the papers that his Pet had provided him with. And while he now hated his old human name, Rex had to admit that it _did_ make a good cover identity. He did have to wonder, though, who had sent the package with those papers, and where they had learned what his name had been.

At four in the morning, he pulled off the Interstate and headed for a mid-range hotel, to lair up for the day. He paid the bored attendant for two nights, since he would be there past check-out time, and drove around to his room, conveniently located at the rear of the building, with north-facing windows. He unloaded the cooler and one small bag that he'd discovered held spare clothes (military vamp-grade, but civilian in appearance) and toiletries then locked the Expedition and went inside to sleep out the day.

~o~

It was mid-afternoon when Rex woke once again. He peered cautiously out his window, ready to leap back if the sun threatened him. But the hotel was two stories high and angled just enough that his car would soon be in enough shadow for safety. He smiled; by the time he'd warmed up another unit of blood in the room's microwave, the shadows would be deep enough that he would be able to load up his gear once more and be on his way.

It was hard, leaving his sole remaining Childe and his Pet behind, but he could do nothing for them right now. He would establish himself, then he would start to work on that problem. A more immediate problem would be keeping himself fed. Taylor was a good Pet, and loyal, but Rex wasn't about to fool himself into thinking that the man would be happy with his killing other humans. It wasn't always smart to just sample several; that was time-consuming, and you couldn't always find enough suitable victims to get a full feed. There were the suckhouses, but after the humiliation he'd just been put through, he wasn't about to tolerate any more. And stealing bagged human blood from hospitals was just beneath him, besides being too likely to draw the wrong kind of attention―not that he was afraid of the Slayers…

No; he would have to choose victims whose deaths Taylor wouldn't get too upset over. Now if he could find butchers like those medical types at the base… He would see what was available, once he got to Minneapolis.

Nodding to himself, he pulled his heated blood from the nuker and bit the bag, being careful not to spill any in the room. It wouldn't do to leave a mess that might arouse suspicions, after all. With that in mind, he repacked his empty blood-bag once he'd finished, then loaded his stuff into the car.

Leaving the room key on the dresser, he was on the road once more before true night had fallen, thanks to the forethought of his Pet in getting the heavily tinted windows.

~o~

He stopped for the day once more just over the Minnesota border, desiring to reach Minneapolis shortly after dark. He wanted as much of the night as possible to explore his new home-to-be. This time he purchased a newspaper before going to his room, wanting to see if any sort of news of his escape had leaked out to the media. It hadn't, but he saw an ad in the personal columns that caught his interest.

AURELIUS FAMILY  
REUNION  
April 1-4.  
Friends of the  
Family welcome.  
RSVP  
910-555-8267

He looked at it, wondering if that could really be what he thought it was. The dates given were a week or so away; maybe he'd buy a disposable cell phone and call, once he was in a city he could lose himself in afterwards.

Another unit of blood was heated and eaten; then he was down for the day, the door securely locked with the safety chain on and a "Do Not Disturb" sign on the door. He would be glad to be done with traveling.

~o~

He had to wait for full dark this time, for his room faced west and was on the second floor, with access via a balcony running the length of the building. He put the time to good use, drinking his last "snack-pack" of blood and finishing reading the paper. He found himself wishing he could find some current local news for his destination; maybe he'd get himself one of those small portable computers or something. He knew he could get the news on one of those.

He gave a chuff of laughter at himself, sounding like a _human,_ worrying about non-essentials like computers and cell phones. Still, he brought the paper with him when he moved his gear back down to the car. He would consider it later; right then the more immediate problem was finding someone to eat, and it would take more than one to make up for all the missed meals and short rations. His Pet had done his best by his Master, but there had been only so much possible. That his freedom had been obtained was a major miracle.

So thinking, Rex drove into Minneapolis, heading for the poorer areas of the city. People were out and about, many sitting on the front steps of their buildings, or walking along on unknown errands, just like any other city he'd ever been in. He continued on, looking for the older industrial areas, for these usually had many deserted, run-down properties, perfectly suited for vampire occupation. Such would do for now; he would find something better later on, for he wasn't about to make his Pet live in conditions like that.

Finally, around 2 a.m., he found a building that suited him. It was very late; he was half-afraid that he would have to settle for a homeless person for his meal. They were often so sickly that they made poor feed, and they frequently were drug addicts. Still, he opened the delivery door and drove the Expedition inside to hide it, then went out to see whom he could find to eat.

This was, he quickly discovered, a very good area, if he wanted to eat drug dealers. And several long blocks over was the start of a red-light district. Pimps always made good eating, as did their hookers. He stopped at that thought; Taylor would get very upset if he ate helpless women, especially those preyed upon by other humans. So. Pimps were on the menu, but the prostitutes themselves were not. Feeling very self-righteous—an odd feeling, he decided—he went and ate two drug dealers, and emptied their pockets conscientiously. While Taylor had given him money, it wouldn't last forever; it behooved him to add to his funds whenever possible. Twenty thousand dollars richer, he headed back to the factory he'd chosen to sleep the day away.

~o~

He was out shortly after dark the next night, driving around the city, trying to get a feel for the place. He found several other areas of run-down factories and dilapidated apartment buildings—urban sprawl had left them forlorn and abandoned, and urban renovation and homesteading hadn't gotten to them yet. He was pleased, for this gave him a number of options for future housing. He liked what he saw of the place so far and decided to thank whoever had chosen that city to put on his driver's license. On a whim, he found a city map to try to locate his actual address.

He had only been driving a few minutes in search of it, when he passed a bus station. On a hunch, he pulled into the darkest area of the parking lot, then got out to walk around a bit. It was getting late, though—nearly eleven—and he was about to leave, deciding that there was nothing for him here after all, when a bus pulled into the station. He watched as several people got off, all adults; then his attention sharpened when two very young girls got off by themselves.

There was a time when he would have stalked such vulnerable prey for himself, but Taylor… He followed after them when he realized that there had been no one waiting to meet them there. They were runaways, then, both in their early teens, if even that much for the younger one, he guessed. They looked lost and hungry, and he knew that he wasn't the only predator out here prowling around; he'd seen another watching them closely, also.

Sure enough, four blocks later, in a dark section of the street, a rather well-dressed young man stepped up his pace to intercept the girls. The younger one huddled back against her companion, who, though frightened herself, tried to brazen it out. The procurer—Rex knew that was what he was—was a smooth talker, and had almost convinced the girls to go with him when Rex walked up.

"I do not believe you wish to go with him, girls," the vampire said, his voice carefully gentle. "He will hurt you."

"An' you won't?" the young man sneered, angry now. "Go find your own chicks, creep; I saw these first. They're mine." And then he made the mistake of pulling a knife on Rex and lunging at him.

The girls squealed in fear, but they stood frozen to the spot as Rex vamped out and calmly took the knife out of the punk's hand, using it to slit his throat. Not one to waste an opportune meal, he pulled the dying man to himself and latched onto his throat, new-learned habit keeping him from sinking in his fangs.

Blood dripping from his mouth, Rex finally let the dead body drop and half-turned to look at the terrified girls. He let them look their fill before shifting back to his human mask. "I will not hurt you; you have my word on it," he told them solemnly. "But there are others of his sort out there, still. Will you come with me? I will find you something to eat, and you may spend the rest of the night with me in safety."

They stared at him, shock still holding them in place. Then the younger one asked, "Do you have a soul, like Angel?"

He looked at the girl, taken aback. "What? Who is this Angel?"

"He's a vampire on a TV show," the older girl explained, calming now that Rex looked normal and hadn't hurt them yet. "He was cursed with a soul. The other one went looking for his on his own. On the show, I mean."

He blinked, then went down to one knee and chuckled. "No, I do not have a soul."

"Oh. Are you chipped, then?" the younger asked, but the older one cut her off.

"He can't be, silly," she chided the other girl. "He killed that man—That _was_ a human, right?" she added, looking back at Rex.

He decided that he liked these children, and that his Pet most likely would also. "No, I am not chipped, and yes, that was a human."

"Are you going to eat us? Or make us vampires?" This time it was the older one asking, and he caught an additional touch of fear-scent on the air now.

"I will not eat you; my Pet would be upset with me," he said gently. "And you are both too young to turn—a child vampire is an abomination—a very bad thing," he amended, seeing the confusion on the younger girl's face. "I think that I will take you and keep you fed and protected, so that you can grow up safe. And maybe, someday, you will give me blood willingly, along with others, so I will no longer need to hunt for my food. It would not hurt you; I would not kill you, for you would be mine, to cherish and protect. Would you like that?"

They looked at him a long, solemn moment, then the older girl nodded. "Okay," she said, moving a little closer, then pausing. "What are you gonna do about him?" she asked, then giggled. "You have blood on your face, you know."

Rex looked at her and suddenly realized that his life would definitely not be dull with them around. But he tore part of the corpse's shirt off and wiped his face before turning back to the girls. "There; did I get it all?" At their nods, he grinned at them, then looked back at the body. "I think that I may leave this as a warning to others," he said; then, taking the man's knife, Rex cut the word "pervert" into his forehead.

He closed the knife, pocketing it, and offered his hands to the girls. The younger one took his hand, the other opting just to walk at his side. He led them back towards the bus station and his waiting car. They could spend the rest of this night at his current refuge, once he'd purchased some food for them, and some blankets, but he would have to do some serious lair-hunting tomorrow. He now had the start of a Stable to care for, and he meant to do well by them.

~oOo~

It was all over the front page of the Minneapolis papers after the corpse of the known sex-offender was discovered in the morning. Surveillance footage showed the two girls leaving the bus station, the dead man following them at a distance. There was an odd distortion in the next few frames, but the authorities decided that it was just a hiccup in the old video system.

Who (or what) was responsible for killing the stalker was never discovered, and there was a huge outcry over the missing girls, especially when it was learned, after they'd finally been identified, that they'd run away from an abusive foster home. But what upset the authorities the most was the accusatory word that had been cut into the body's forehead—_after_ the man was dead. And the fact that, according to the coroner, there wasn't enough blood left around the scene from the slit throat.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Life, as feared, now got _interesting _for the vampire. He'd taken the two girls—Sarah, 9, and Janet, 13—to a Denny's near the Interstate for a meal, as promised. He got some strange looks at having two such young children out well after midnight, but travelers _did_ pass through at all sorts of odd hours. No one remembered them even after the papers came out the next morning, for they'd looked like a father-and-daughters group, although the man _had_ looked rather sickly and pale.

He had braved a nearby 24-hour Wal-Mart for clothing for the children, and sheets and blankets. Again, no one thought twice—home fires occurred, or other emergencies that left folks needing basic necessities. And some people just preferred to avoid the daytime crowds. The children were well-mannered, and the man was polite; thus no one noticed them. Even in the toy section they raised no eyebrows, as the man purchased age-appropriate educational puzzles and games, so his young stable members could amuse themselves while he slept the days away. This shouldn't be too much of a problem, since they knew he was a vampire and that he kept nocturnal hours.

He mocked himself, but he bought two laptops—a good one for himself, and a cheaper one, along with a number of games, for the girls. He would figure out how to get power for them later, once he'd settled in a more permanent location.

Food for the girls wasn't a problem, either. The Wal-Mart was one of the larger "superstores" with a grocery section, so he got bread and pre-packaged sliced meats and cheese, and cereal in boxes. The meats, cheese, and milk would have to be purchased each night, he realized, until he could get a small refrigerator. _Stables were a lot of trouble to keep_, he thought with a sigh as he added cups, dishes, and flatware to his cart.

At last he had everything he could think of. The girls had made some suggestions, but he knew he'd find other things lacking. The cart loaded high, they made their way through the checkout line, loaded _way_ too many bags into the Expedition, and set out—finally—for his temporary lair. The girls were starting to drag now; four in the morning was far too late for such young ones to be up, he berated himself. In a back storeroom, he set up the freestanding tent Taylor had packed for him, inflated the air mattress that he'd also found with the camping gear, then settled the girls inside with the boxes of cereal.

"I will wake around midafternoon," he told them in a gentle voice. "Stay in this room and amuse yourselves quietly. Here is something to eat until I get up; we will go out to find you a good meal, once it gets dark. I will have to go out later tomorrow night to feed myself, so you will have to stay here by yourselves until I get back. Can you do that?"

"Uh-huh," Janet said sleepily as she settled onto the mattress. Sarah curled up next to the older girl; smiling slightly, Rex pulled a blanket up to the girls' chins, then left them for the rest of night.

~o~

He shifted their lair to a deserted storefront in a slightly better area the next night. He'd chosen it because he was able to bypass the electric meter, and so they had power. He bought a small refrigerator for his girls' milk and lunchmeats after he found the place, and they were now able to use the computer he'd bought them.

He checked the news on his laptop before going out again that night; there was no indication that anyone was looking for _him_, but it appeared that a massive search was underway for the girls. He overcame that problem by purchasing a microwave and some frozen meals for his humans, which seemed to please them as well as if they'd gone out to eat. He oversaw their night-time prayers—that seemed to surprise them, for some reason, although he couldn't imagine why. Finally he left them for the night, after tucking them into their bed, still in the small tent so they had some privacy to change into their pajamas.

~o~

Rex drove to a different area to hunt this night; he wasn't about to risk discovery for his newly formed stable by hunting near the lair. He passed up several drug dealers, although it would have been nice to pocket some more money. No; he realized that there were 'way too many children being victimized and sold into prostitution. Even Taylor would agree that men that did such deserved to die; he would make those his main prey and would carefully mark each body with the reason he'd selected them as targets.

And he would _not_ bite, he thought, fingering the knife in his pocket. If he did, that would bring the military down on him, if not Slayers. Plus, that sort of attention would endanger his girls, for if he were taken or dusted, they would have no one to protect them.

At last he parked the car in a lot that had others in it, near a club that was still open. He watched the people who came and went, noting the girls who reeked of sex, especially the younger ones. He waited, watching for the watchers—the men who controlled those girls. Finally he selected one and followed him back towards his car after he'd taken money from a young girl.

Rex pulled him into a nearby alley, a hand on his throat cutting off his air supply and preventing a yell. Slamming him up against a wall, the vampire, still in his human mask, sneered in the man's face. "That one of your girls?" he asked in a conversational voice.

The pimp was more outraged than scared, especially once he was allowed to breathe again. "What's it to ya?"

The hand tightening around his throat again made him realize that he might have miscalculated somewhat.

"I will not ask a third time," Rex warned, still maintaining his control. "Now, again: Was that one of your girls? And how many do you run?"

"You a cop?" the procurer started to ask, getting worried, but he quickly gasped out, "Yes!" as the vampire began to tighten his grip once more.

"How many?"

"Three." He was scared now, for the strength of the man threatening him had finally registered.

"Where do you keep them when they are not working?" Rex demanded as a plan began to form in his mind. The man gave him an address, and Rex smiled, just before he vamped out and cut the pimp's throat with the knife he'd taken the previous night. Again avoiding the use of his fangs, Rex drank down the blood that he spilled, being more careful this time not to wear it.

As he'd done with his previous victim, he emptied the corpse's pockets, taking all the cash he found, this time stripping the body of all jewelry. Then he cut the word "pimp" on the man's forehead before heading out to find the girl he'd first seen.

He found her standing at the curb, trolling for "business" in clothes that were barely decent. She smiled at him as he approached her; even from a distance he could smell her distress at having to do this. But he smiled back at her. "You… want to go someplace else?" he asked, not having done this seriously for some time, although some things, it seemed, didn't change much over the years.

"Sure," she answered coyly, although he could sense that she was not truly willing. "Whaddaya have in mind?" she asked as she slipped her hand around his arm as if he were her escort.

"I have a car; we could go wherever you wish," he told her, covering her hand with his and holding her in place—although she didn't realize that was what he was doing.

"Great," she said with a false smile and followed him back to his vehicle, giving him some directions as they pulled away from the curb. He smiled grimly—it was the same address that the pimp had given him.

It wasn't far, but the building was in worse condition than the one he'd chosen for his own lair. Winos and addicts roamed the street, or lay propped in nooks of the surrounding buildings. One man, cleaner than the others, looked over at Rex. "Don't go in there with her," he warned, carefully keeping his voice down. "You won't come out again."

"Get out of here, Collins!" the girl hissed angrily. "Slick will have his boys kill you this time if he sees you here again!" Then she turned worried eyes on Rex, as if afraid that he'd have second thoughts about going with her.

"Collins, hmmm?" Rex asked as he looked with interest at the human who'd tried to warn him. "Does the pimp kill many of his girls' johns?"

The girl struggled to pull away now, but oddly, she kept silent. The man called Collins looked at Rex as if reconsidering his chances. "Enough of 'em to be worried, if I were you," he answered slowly.

"Ah, but you are _not_ me," Rex laughed back. "There are other men inside?"

"Yeah, at least three," Collins replied. "You're still goin' in there, aren't you." It wasn't a question.

"Of course," Rex told him. "Will you hold this girl and wait for me here? I will bring out the others, if they are there. Their pimp will not be returning, so I see no need to leave them here."

The girl froze in shock at his words, her mouth gaping open. The man, Collins, just grinned. "You want some help? Three against one can be kinda tricky. You might want someone along to watch your six."

It was Rex's turn to freeze, then he grinned. "I knew you felt familiar. You were military, once. And now?"

"Now, nothing," the human replied, his voice dead. "I got nowhere, nothin', an' nobody, as they say."

"So I will take you up," Rex said, deciding to go with his gut. This man reminded him somewhat of his Pet. "You may come with me, although you may not like what you see inside."

"Haven't much liked what I saw goin' in and outta here; don't see that it'll be much different inside," Collins answered, taking hold of the girl's arm and following Rex.

There was an armed man just inside the lobby. He'd clearly expected an unarmed, oblivious john, so he was taken by surprise when Rex slammed him back against a wall so hard he was knocked out, blood trickling from his ears. There was a clear dent left behind in the wall.

"You mean to do that?" Collins asked, carefully keeping his voice down.

"Yes," Rex answered shortly, scenting the air in search of the others purported to be here. "I will deal with the body later," he added as he headed for the stairs going down to the cellar, where he could hear other human hearts beating. The two humans followed silently, the girl stumbling somewhat, in shock from the violence she'd just seen.

Downstairs was worse. There were three men there, two holding down a boy—a young teen—bent over a table. Rex didn't pause to see how far they'd gotten; he just snapped the neck of the would-be rapist and slammed one of the other men face-first into the wall. A scream of terror from the girl, followed by the smell of urine, let Rex know that his control had slipped; he'd finally gone into gameface.

"Oh, shit," Collins murmured softly, but he grabbed the third goon before he could knife the vampire in the back. He twisted the man's arm up behind his back so violently that he dislocated the shoulder.

Rex looked at him and grinned. "So, Collins, you know."

"Yeah, 'fraid I do," the human responded, not sure what he should do now, watching as the vampire resumed his human mask. "Saw your… people… when I was SpecOps, in California, some years back. It's why I got out; didn't like what I saw them doing, to us especially. My superiors, I mean."

"Ah; so you are one of the survivors of the Hellmouth?"

"Yeah."

"No matter. See to the boy, but do not lose the girl. I will deal with these. I do not smell any others of their sort here; just their victims," Rex said, pushing the human he still held over to a more shadowed corner of the room. Collins couldn't quite see what was happening, but he suddenly smelled a lot of blood, then the vampire bent his head close to the man's neck. There were sucking sounds for a few moments, then the lifeless body was allowed to slip to the floor. He finally saw the knife in the vampire's hand when he turned back to face the room once more. The man Collins held gibbered in terror, despite the pain he was in.

"You gonna eat him too?" Collins gathered up the nerve to ask.

"No; I do not want to gorge. I need the blood, but too much at a time will make me too sluggish. Two is more than enough in one night; I will not have to go hunting tomorrow night, either," Rex said as calmly as if he were discussing the weather.

"What about the girl, and this kid?"

"The boy I will keep; I do not know if I care for the scent of the girl," Rex answered, then paused at the look on the human's face. "Collins, I do not mean to hurt her. My Pet would be upset. It does not matter that he is not here with me right now; I wish to be able to look him in the eyes when I do get him back, and know that he will not be too upset over my kills. He knows I need to eat and that I kill to live. I am working on establishing a Stable; I will not need to kill then.

"But enough. There are two others being held down here, against their will. Let us see what condition those are in, yes?"

"What're you gonna do about this guy?" Collins asked, trying to let himself be somewhat reassured.

"Oh, I suppose you had best give him to me; I can see you would rather not be the one to put him down," Rex said, pulling the last goon from Collin's grip and casually slitting his throat. He avoided the blood-spray with practiced ease, dropping that body also. He ripped a sleeve off the dead man's shirt, passing it to the human he'd claimed. "Here; you had best rub down anywhere you have touched. If you were military, they will have your fingerprints on file. I know that they did not take mine, since they held us to be mere animals, unable to escape them."

Collins was tempted to ask more, but held his questions for later. He didn't want the girl to hear too much, since the vampire might then decide to kill her anyway. He turned to the boy, but he scuttled away from him, into a corner, trembling in fear. "Leave me alone!" the kid nearly screamed, unable to distinguish between his captors and his would-be rescuers.

Rex had gone into the next room; now he came back carrying a blanket and leather wrist cuffs. "I suppose we will have to keep the girl," he said unhappily as he passed the cuffs to his new human. "Put these on her; there are two more in the next room. They have given one of them drugs of some sort; she will need care, and my other girls are too young to know how to deal with this."

"I know what to do, sorta," Collins volunteered, wondering if he was losing his mind. He should be running for his life, although the vamp could probably catch him with no trouble.

"Good. You will find leashes in the next room also—it is set up as a sex dungeon," Rex warned as he approached the boy in the corner. "They played rough games with their victims; fortunately, they had not started on the other girl yet. Hurry, though; we need to leave, for I need to get back to my stable. I will have to get supplies for these, too, for I do not have enough bedding at my lair. I had not planned on expanding so soon."

He caught the boy by throwing the blanket he carried over him, hampering his attempts to escape. The kid stopped fighting with a sob once he knew he was caught again. Rex cradled him in his arms, crooning softly. "Hush now," he said, patting the boy the way Taylor had once petted him. "I will not hurt you; you will be safe with me. Be silent, now. All will be well…"

Leashed, the boy was resigned to his fate. At least _this_ one didn't seem to want to hurt him. He looked at the girl, who was cuffed and leashed beside him, watching as another, younger girl was led out from the next room, trembling, in just her underwear.

"Geez," Collins muttered, once he realized just how young these kids were. "You can't be meaning to…" His voice faded as the vampire let his eyes flash yellow at him.

"They will be cared for and protected, and allowed to grow up in safety. I will not feed from them until they are much older, and I will not kill them even then. They are mine, as you will be. Although I _will_ feed from you, occasionally. Do you intend to object, human?"

There was a definite threat in the vampire's voice. "Don't think it would do much good, would it?" Collins asked, a slight frown on his face. "I've seen guys get addicted to the bite, though. Can't say as I wanted to be one of 'em."

"Ah," Rex said, his eyes clearing back to green. "It will not be like that. A Stable is not like a suckhouse, Collins. Stables are carefully tended and not passed around. Like an old Saracen _hareem,_ yes? Only sex is not a requirement."

_"That's_ good to hear," Collins nearly laughed in relief, and Rex smiled at him.

"Can you bring these upstairs by yourself? I will have to carry the last one," he said, passing the leash of the girl he'd brought, over to Collins. He paused, though. "The pimp, I knew how to label," he said pensively, looking over at the bodies that littered the floor. "What do I call these?"

Collins just looked at him as if he were crazy.

~oOo~

The newspaper headlines screamed about the multiple homicides the next morning. Four bodies, all with cut throats, had been found in and around a rundown building that had apparently housed prostitutes. Some of the photos and videos found inside sickened the detectives assigned to the case; the murdered men had clearly gotten what they'd deserved.

They had found the scene when a neighbor—who, of course, had heard nothing, seen nothing, during the night—had reported a body on the building's front steps. "Pedophile" had been cut into the foreheads of the three bodies found inside the building; "thug" labeled the one out on the steps. The coroner ruled that one had died of a broken neck, and another of cerebral hemorrhaging. The last two had died of blood loss from slit throats. Again, there wasn't enough blood from one of those bodies.

~o~

The newspapers started screaming about a vigilante—a _vampire_ vigilante, when the drained body of a known pimp—also labeled as such by cuts on his forehead—was found near a "sex club" not far away.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Rex had managed to get all the humans back to his lair without drawing undue attention, but he knew he'd been lucky. This many humans, in this area, were bound to be noticed, for their noise if nothing else. The boy—Jamie, 15—woke from a nightmare just before dawn. Frankly, Rex had been surprised that he'd gotten to sleep at all. Luckily, Collins had been able to quiet him, but not before he'd woken little Sarah. She had come out of their tent to stare around at all the strangers in shock, then had run to Rex, throwing herself into his arms and bursting into tears.

The others had stared as their new Master had held the little girl gently and petted her back and hair, whispering to her until she calmed at last. Collins grinned, despite Rex's scowl in his direction.

"What?" the human asked, still grinning. "It just shows that you really _do_ mean to take care of 'em, like you said. You gotta know they worried, after the way you settled 'em down."

The vampire's scowl deepened, but the human did have a point, he supposed. He was just too tired to deal with this right then. He had spent much of the remaining hours of darkness driving around the outskirts of the city, going from store to store to purchase supplies, so he didn't get too much in any one place. Again, blankets, utensils, easy-to-keep food supplies, and nondescript but sturdy clothing were purchased at various Wal-Marts—he was beginning to really _loathe_ the places.

But what had upset the young humans were the collars and tether-chains, secured with small locks, that he'd gotten in two small "adult" stores he'd found open. This he thought only fitting; it was the way the humans had treated _him,_ and now he wouldn't have to worry about one of them going out during the day and informing the authorities about him, or where his lair was. Even Collins wore one—he'd accepted his collar quietly—although he wasn't on a tether-chain.

"I could not risk them running away," Rex freely admitted. "You agreed that you were mine; they did not. That does not mean that I will not treat them well, though. It just means that I will take precautions with them, to protect all of us.

"I am going to sleep now; see that they are fed, if they get hungry during the day." Rex waited until he saw Collins nod in acquiescence, then spread out his own blanket in front of Sarah and Janet's small tent. He sent the little girl back in to rejoin the other, then settled himself down for the day, a vampire guard-dog for the first and youngest of his stable.

~o~

He woke when one of the two warm spots against him squirmed slightly. There were no windows back here, so he couldn't see even a hint of the sun, but his time-sense told him that it was late afternoon. He realized with a soft chuckle that the warm spots were two little girls—well, Janet wasn't all _that_ little, but still… He opened his eyes and looked at them.

They had dragged their blankets out of their tent, for it was still cold here in March, and the room had no heat. These were draped over them and him as they curled up against him for comfort more than warmth. He had apparently wrapped an arm around Sarah—or she had crawled up under it, he didn't know which. But she had apparently gotten restless, waiting for him to wake.

He realized her brown eyes were watching his face carefully, so he smiled at her. "Good morning, little one," he said, pleased when she smiled shyly back at him.

"'Morning. Sorry I woke you up," she murmured, remembering that the vampire seemed to prefer they speak softly.

"Have you eaten?" he asked, turning his head to see that yes, Janet was also awake.

"Uh-huh; Collins fed us lunch already," she answered with her own smile, then frowned slightly. "I don't like Starla; she's mean, an' says nasty things to the others."

"Starla?" Rex asked, looking around for Collins.

The human made a face of disapproval before pointing around the room at the others. "Starla, (the young hooker he'd picked up), Jamie (the young boy), Kelly (the girl in her underwear), and Brittany (the drugged one)." He pointed to each as he said their names.

Rex noted in surprise that the leather cuffs were back on Starla, and she was gagged now, with a strip of cloth. He raised an eyebrow at that.

Collins shrugged. "She was getting kinda loud and abusive; I was afraid she'd wake you up. Nothing I could do about those little ones, though.

"What do we call you, anyway?" he finished his report.

"I am Rex," the vampire answered, pleased with his human. "You and the others may call me Master, or Master Rex. That is proper for humans of a Stable, or a Pet."

"And we are…?" Collins asked, motioning around the room to indicate all the humans there, himself included.

"Stable. My Pet… needs to be re-acquired. The military has him still. I will be working on _that_, soon. But I have other things to see to first, such as a proper lair. I do not want the children getting sick, and they will if I keep them like this for too long."

"Yeah, it _is_ kinda cold and cramped in here," Collins agreed, thinking to himself that the vampire wouldn't tolerate Starla's whiney mouth for very long in such close quarters.

Rex just nodded, then looked at him once more. "You are okay? They are not giving you too much trouble?"

"Nah. The biggest problem was Brittany, but she's down from the drugs now, so it's okay. Good thing the bathroom works, although they could all do with showers. We'll make do, though."

"I will find us a better lair, Collins, one that will make your work easier," Rex promised, already relegating Collins to caring for the others, in _his_ mind, at least. "And we will leave Starla behind when we go. No one will believe her if she tries to tell them what she has seen, except perhaps something like the tabloids. They will lock her up for telling wild stories, or say that she was on drugs—which she was, at the time."

"We should have left her behind… Master," Collins said, trying the title for the first time and not finding it so difficult to say. That was a surprise, but he put the thought away for later.

"I did not want us found yet; she would have raised the alarm too soon," Rex admitted, very offhandedly. He gently pushed his girls aside and rose from the nest of bedding they'd made for him. "What is the weather like today?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Overcast; light snow flurries—very odd for the season," Collins told him as he watched the vampire reach for his coat and gloves.

"Good; little sun to worry about. I will be back later; I have some errands to run. Who likes Chinese?" he asked, raising his voice slightly, to the surprise of his stable. They were soon calling out their favorites, though, and he left with a smile.

He drove around the city some more before pulling into a ramshackle convenience store and purchasing several cell phones. He would keep one, he decided, and give one to Collins, so his human could reach him should the need arise while he was out. The last one, though…

He finally parked the Expedition and walked several blocks away, climbing to the roof of an old tenement building via the fire escape. He checked around himself carefully, verifying that he had several avenues of escape, then dialed the number for that "family reunion." The call was answered promptly.

"Aurelius Family reunion," a male voice said in crisp tones. "How may I help you, sir or ma'am?"

He almost hung up, for he'd heard Taylor and the other handlers answer _their _phones in a similar manner when the caller ID was blocked. That was a military response… But he had to know. "Who are _you?"_ he demanded harshly.

"A family servant," the man replied with no hesitation at all. Then he asked, "Are you family or friend, sir?"

"Who is your Master?" Rex demanded in return.

"Ah. My Master is Master Anthony of Aurelius, called Tony. Our nest Master is Master Ripper of Aurelius."

"Not Spike or Angelus?" Rex asked, a sneer in his voice at that last name.

"No, sir, although they are aware of this line of the Family. How may we assist you?" the man on the other end persisted calmly.

"Do you know the name Rex?" he cautiously asked, not sure what response to hope for or expect. He was still surprised by the answer.

"Oh, good. My Master and his superiors hoped you would communicate with us. Glad to hear that your Pet got the package and was able to use it. You can reach us at this number any time, or, if you prefer, I can give you Master Ripper's personal number."

"Packages? Oh…" He paused, understanding now _why _Taylor had seemed so pleased when they had arrived; he had obviously been hoping some such would come. "But you are military, are you not?" Rex asked in confusion.

"Doesn't mean we agree with what your unit's CO was doing, or allowing to happen right under his nose," a new voice took over the conversation now. "I'm Tony, by the way. You're Rex, right?"

"How is my Pet?" Rex asked the question foremost on his mind.

"He's in a heap o' trouble, but our general's delaying his court-martial. It helps that you've been keeping a low profile so far. _Your_ base CO looks like a hysteria-monger, since he's been claiming you're gonna go on a murder spree, as often as he can."

"No, but a vampire _does_ have to eat," Rex laughed ruefully. "I am… choosing wisely, as that movie hinted was good. Will your general be able to free my Pet for me?"

"Don't know. It'll be a while, anyway. You need anything?"

"For myself, nothing, but the others left behind need rescuing, and soon. They are dying, because they are being starved and mistreated. The doctors there are starting to do 'tests,' as they call them. They killed a Childe of mine that way, just before I was set free; they were about to take me next."

"And that's why Ta… your Pet," Tony corrected himself abruptly, "your Pet set you free. We wondered what the trigger'd be, or how he'd manage it."

"He is a very smart human, and I want him back, alive, well, and whole. I do _not_ want him to be castrated as a troublemaker, as some of us were," Rex said, stopping at this _Tony_'s shocked cry.

"What?" the other vampire exclaimed, not wanting to believe his ears. "Look, I gotta go; they're gonna want to do something about this, an' _fast._ You got a number we can call you at?"

"Yes, but send me an e-mail at this address," he gave out the Hotmail address that he'd set up, "and _I_ will call _you;_ I do not want to be tracked back to my lair, and _this_ phone will be hidden well away from it."

"Don't blame you in the least," Tony said with an understanding sigh. "I'll keep future contacts short and infrequent, so you're not compromised. Take care, Rex; we'll do what we can on this end."

"Thank you," Rex replied, then ended the call. He left that rooftop by a different route, then hid the cell phone back in the factory he'd first laired in. Now, he thought with a laugh, it was time to find just where they'd decided he had lived, as stated on his driver's license.

He hadn't explored out that way yet, having gotten side-tracked by the bus station. Now he drove, finding himself in an area taken over by industry, then mostly abandoned, years ago. Only a few of the factories still seemed to be in use. Interspersed among the factory buildings were decrepit houses in what had once been, even further in the past, a genteel area of large homes on estate-like grounds. The acreages themselves had been broken up, for the most part; that was the land the factories had been built on, leaving the remains of the manor houses collapsing forlornly among them, their onetime owners victims of the Spanish Flu. He kept on, arriving at last at a group of good-sized buildings set back behind a high stone wall. The unlocked, rusted gate moved in the slight wind, one half hanging crookedly from a broken hinge. _Waggoner Military Academy,_ a sign on one gate pillar declared, right above the same address that had been put on his license. Rex stared at it a moment before starting to laugh. He opened the gate and drove through, intending to explore the buildings and grounds. This place might just prove to be perfect, he realized, wondering if whoever had chosen the address had known what was actually there—or that it was empty and for sale, as the sign on the other gate pillar boldly declared.

It was well after dark when he left the property, after carefully writing down the contact information for the realtor handling it. He grinned in anticipation. It looked like he was going to be on a steady diet of drug dealers for the immediate future; he had an old boarding school to buy.

Rex drove back into the city proper, going past the bus station once more, although he didn't stop this time. He went in search of a Chinese restaurant, since he'd practically promised that for dinner. Loaded down with bags and boxes of assorted dishes, he re-entered the lair in time to hear Starla cursing out Collins. Furious, he still set down the food carefully, before going over and striking the girl across the face. "You do _not_ speak to your betters in that fashion!" he snapped, his temper barely held in check. A red handprint now marked her face, although he'd been careful of his strength. The others stared at him with frightened eyes; even Collins looked worried. Rex carefully brought himself back under control before turning to him. "I do not care to know what set her off," he said in carefully measured tones. "In the future, you _will_ administer discipline as it is needed. I do not ever wish to hear a repeat of this type of behavior again. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Master," Collins said, dropping his eyes as he'd seen wolves and such do on the Discovery Channel. Apparently that was the right thing to do, for the vampire calmed visibly.

"There is the food, as requested," he said, turning to his little ones and opening out his arms. They went to him with only a little hesitation, which relaxed Rex further. He paused, though, turning back to Collins. "Do not feed Starla," he said in a quiet voice. "She deserves some punishment; I will turn her out tonight, so there is no need to waste our food on her—she can find her own."

Collins thought of protesting, then thought back to how easily, how coldly, the vampire had snapped that one guy's neck the night before. He knew that human lives meant little to Rex; not enough to lie about. If he said he was turning the girl out, that's what he'd do. So Collins swallowed his disapproval and nodded. "Yes, Master Rex," was all that he said.

Though Starla glared at the rest as they ate, the mood in the lair became lighter, the other young people laughing and joking quietly as they ate. Rex knew that he'd made the right decision about her when Jamie cracked a _very_ bad vampire joke and didn't cringe afterwards. They stayed up a little while longer, but the vampire could see that his youngest were starting to look tired, so he sent them to wash up and get ready for bed. Once again he oversaw night prayers, including the others this time, as well. It was what would have been done when he was a breathing man, and he had little enough experience with keeping humans since then that he fell back on old, nearly forgotten habit: Families prayed together, so his Stable would, also.

Final instructions for the night given to Collins, he put on his coat and hat once more, then wrapped a blanket around Starla and took her out to the Expedition. It didn't take him long to reach his destination, for he'd had a place in mind to drop the troublesome chit off. He'd only promised to turn her out; he'd never told Collins that it would be in a safe place. So he unlocked and removed her collar and the leather cuffs; then, holding her securely, he drove two more blocks to an area where he'd seen some very rough-looking men standing around fire-barrels. He stopped the car only long enough to push her out, laughing to himself as he heard her cursing after him as he drove away. In the rear-view mirror he could see the men heading towards the barely-dressed girl, like starving wolves drawn to the scent of blood. Then he gave her no further thought. _If_ she survived, she'd be in no condition to give any sort of report to the authorities.

~o~

Rex cruised slowly along darkened streets; the inclement weather was keeping most of the populace at home. He saw one or two groups of men that he thought might be drug dealers and marked those locations down in his memory for future investigation. He wasn't really hungry tonight and didn't think that the possible profit would be worth his trouble. And then he saw the four cars.

They were stopped midway down an alley, two facing two in tandem, the lead cars of each pair stopped alongside each other, but facing in opposite directions. He was far enough away that they couldn't see him clearly as he pulled to the curb across from the alley's mouth and watched them a while. For many minutes, nothing happened; then a bulky package was passed across from one of the cars to the other, with a briefcase going in the opposite direction. _That_ caught his attention.

He ducked down as "package car" and its companion vehicle—no doubt carrying bodyguards—pulled out of the alley in his direction, but turned up the street in the direction he'd come from. "Briefcase car" headed further down the alley, followed by its own muscle; he could see the tail-lights turning in the same direction he'd been going, one street over. Now _that,_ he thought, just might be worth his while. With his headlights out, he restarted his engine and drove down the street to intercept them if he could.

He followed them from a distance, his window rolled down despite the cold night air. Briefcase Car was very quiet, but its escort vehicle had a distinctive, if faint, knock in its engine which he found easy to track. They headed into a more exclusive residential area, the houses here all on very large lots; he had to fall back even farther, but he wasn't concerned. When he heard the knocking stop, he continued past the gated driveway, with his lights on to allay any possible suspicions. He knew which house it was; he could smell the hot engines as he passed the gates. Parking his car on a shadowy curve farther down the road, he checked carefully for security cameras—they, too, made telltale noises, if one knew what to listen for, and could hear in that frequency. He went over the side fences of three intervening properties; then he was in the yard of the house he wanted.

Dogs whined in their kennels at his scent, but they didn't bark; they knew danger when they smelled it. He prowled carefully around the house, moving behind the two motion detectors he spotted. Outside a lit ground-floor room, he looked cautiously through the windows. Inside he saw a man in expensive clothes, but not sporting flashy jewelry. The briefcase was open on his desk, and Rex could see the piles of bills stacked inside it.

Grinning, he ducked down behind some bushes as a security patrol passed him, far enough from the house that they couldn't see in the windows… or see him in the shadows. He moved to the nearest dark window after they passed around the corner of the house, a library or sitting room with tall French doors that opened out onto a flagstone patio. Rattan furniture dotted the area; a decorative doormat with an intricate design sat before the doors. Rex grinned as he carefully felt for a barrier, and studied the mat more closely; the fools had clearly not known that the "design" was the Chinese characters for "welcome", and as such an invitation allowing entry for him. Using a ring he'd taken from the pimp the night before, he used the stone—a real diamond—to cut a hole in the glass. The cutout fell onto the thick pile carpet inside, making only a very soft sound that no human outside the room would hear, so the vampire eased the door open and let himself in.

No guard stood outside the office door; the owner of the house apparently felt secure enough with just his outside security patrols. Doubtless _some_ type of alarm had been set off by Rex's entry, but he wouldn't be there much longer. In a flash he was through the office door, surprising the man at an open wall safe. It was only a matter of moments for Rex to slit his throat with the knife and drink down the blood thus spilled, then cut "drugs" onto the man's face as his heart faltered to a stop. The vampire grabbed a cushion from the chair that stood to one side of the room, ripping one seam open and pulling out the stuffing. There was a lot more money in that safe than had been in the briefcase; Rex just swept all the safe's contents into the cushion's casing without looking at any of it. He paused only long enough to rifle through the dead man's pockets, removing the cash from a billfold and a wad of money from another pocket. Then he was back out in the hallway and into the yard, leaping over the wall to the neighboring yard as he heard the screaming of approaching police sirens shattering the quiet of the night.

He drove slowly through the maze of residential streets, until he found another way out to the main road. The police never even caught a glimpse of his vehicle.

~oOo~

_**Prominent Citizen Killed In Home Invasion**,_

the next day's headlines read, and

_**Vampire Vigilante Strikes Again.** _

_Suspected Drug Czar…_

_~o~_

The Homicide chief cursed and sent for his two best detectives. The Mayor and the City Council were really starting to ride his ass about this "vigilante" character; Murphy and Sullivan had better get to the bottom of this, and quickly, or there would be hell to pay.

~o~

In his lair, Rex just grinned at the headlines as he sorted through the paperwork and cash from the safe.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

He was moving too fast, Rex knew, but he also knew that it wasn't smart to stop when you had momentum on your side. He'd found the perfect lair, and now had an enormous amount of ready cash at hand. Some of the papers he'd also found in that safe could be turned into additional funds, while the rest… He grinned to himself at his next thought. They called him a vigilante in the papers; he would send some of those other papers to the authorities—anonymously, of course—and let _them_ deal with the fallout. His most current victim had been into a lot more than just drugs, and had not been the model citizen that many had thought him to be.

Now, though, he had banking to attend to, and a lawyer _(shudder!)_ to retain. And he'd have to pay taxes on that property if he wished to avoid official notice in the future—he wondered briefly how the larger, well-to-do Families and Clans managed it—escrow accounts, perhaps? But he had the cash all sorted out, along with the papers he meant to keep for himself. It was still early afternoon, a little too early for him to be up and about, but there was so much to be done, and after tonight, he would have to wait, for the banks and such would be closed for the weekend, and he would have to wait for Monday…

Again he laughed at himself for that mental babble, then sat up and looked around for Collins. He found the human sitting and reading something on his laptop, looking unhappy.

"What is wrong?" Rex asked his stable-chief, concern in his voice.

"They found Starla, Master," Collins replied with a sigh. "She wandered where she shouldn't have, apparently; someone found her this morning, beaten and raped. Article says she's at the hospital, catatonic. Cops're looking for the men who raped her." He looked at the vampire, trying to keep the accusation out of his eyes, but Rex saw it anyway.

"She was fine when I put her out," the vampire said without guile, sticking to the exact truth. "The last _I_ saw of her, she was staring after my car, cursing me at the top of her lungs, in language more suited to a sailor. She probably attracted the wrong sort of attention; that is not _my_ fault." _The girl could have kept quiet and just run, after all…_

"No, it's not," Collins agreed with another sigh. "I guess I shouldn't really be surprised, either, considering her… calling, I guess. She didn't seem to really _want_ to change for the better."

"No, she did not; not like these others." Rex looked around at his remaining young humans, sitting quietly around one of the board games he'd purchased for them. They talked quietly and laughed among themselves, seeming content with their current lot in life. He shook his thoughts back to what he had to set in motion. "What is today's weather? Will I be able to go out early again?" he asked, frowning at Collins' headshake.

"Sorry, Master. The sun is out; it's nice and bright, compared to yesterday. Not good vampire weather," the human answered regretfully.

"Damn!" Rex muttered. "I have business to see to—banking and such, that cannot be done at night. And it is Friday…"

"Banks are open a _little_ later today," Collins offered hesitantly, adding, "Unfortunately, none have night hours, that I know of."

"I will have to chance it and hope I can find sheltered parking somewhere," Rex decided, resigned to risking attracting notice in his sun-proof gear. "I have to find myself a lawyer, and contact a realtor also—I found the perfect lair, but making the purchase will prove difficult without all the rest. Still, I will manage," he said, finishing up with determination. "I will be home late, but I will try to bring home fresh food for the stable. Do you still eat fish on Fridays? It has been a long time since I concerned myself with human observances…"

_Fish?_ Collins thought, puzzled, until he realized… "Uh, not really, Master. Catholics don't have to do that anymore, haven't since the late sixties, early seventies."

"Oh," Rex said, wondering why they'd changed, not that it really mattered to him. "No matter. I will see what I can find for your dinners."

"Master?"

Rex looked over at the children and smiled encouragingly, for they rarely initiated conversation with him.

At his raised eyebrows, Brittany continued, "Could you bring back some pizza?"

~o~

He parked in a cavernous, multi-level parking garage, finding a space on the shaded east side of the structure, and walked down the enclosed stairs. Keeping to the shaded side of the street, he walked through the business district, reading the names of the firms housed within the various buildings, looking for inspiration. Finally he paused outside the main doors of one law firm, for the scent that wafted from within was slightly off from human. With a grin he pushed in through the revolving door.

The receptionist at the lobby desk was human, as were the rent-a-cops that played at being security. He kept from sneering at them only by reminding himself that he _needed_ these humans. The girl at the desk was polite, though, and had gotten one of the junior partners down to see him with admirable efficiency. But even this woman, when she came to greet him, was fully human.

"I'm Marie Crowder, Mr…?" She paused to allow him to give his name if he would.

"Alexander," Rex supplied, restraining his shudder at having to use _that name_. "Julius Alexander." He took her offered hand, shaking it carefully instead of kissing it as he once would have. Of course, back _then_ she would have been some lawyer's wife or mistress, not a lawyer herself.

"Mr. Alexander. If you would care to come this way? We'll see what we can do for you today." And with a smile, she led him to her office. It seemed he had found his lawyer.

~o~

_Ms._ Crowder—the made-up title grated on his sensibilities—called the realtor for him to enquire about the old military academy. It appeared that it had fallen into foreclosure many years before, and the bank that held the actual title was anxious to unload it. They had even been willing to split up the acreage and sell it as parcels for homes, but real estate wasn't moving in that area at all, and the housing market was even more depressed than the business community. They would let it all go for only five million dollars, a small fraction of its true value.

She pulled up ads of various properties for sale in other similar areas, to show how the place compared, and he quickly realized that it was a steal. Ninety-four acres, close to but still outside the city proper; city utilities available; completely walled, with seven major buildings and perhaps a dozen outbuildings on the site, extensive lawns, _and_ an athletic field. There was even a wooded area.

Rex had her send for the papers. For four million dollars down, the bank was more than willing to set up an account for him and arrange financing for the rest. "I just need a little bit of time to liquidate some of my off-shore assets," Rex explained carefully, with a smile. "It truly will not be a problem to obtain the balance; I just do not keep _that_ much cash at hand."

They bought the story, to his surprise, they were so eager to unload what they considered a white elephant. He did indeed have the money, but it didn't seem smart to look _that_ flush with cash. Besides, he had no idea what other expenses he might have, what repairs would prove to be needed once they were out there… Of course, obtaining money hadn't proven difficult; even most of the pimps seemed to carry good-sized rolls of cash…

The lawyer would be _glad_ to take care of the paperwork for the sale, and the taxes and… Yes, she understood about his deplorable skin condition and the need to avoid exposure to the sun's rays. She'd seen an article on the Internet about some children who could only go outside at night… Rex let her prattle on, tuning back in when she said she could arrange a meeting with an understanding bank manager. It seemed that he could do all his banking from the safety of his own home, via computer, once the accounts were set up…

He agreed to the meeting, and she drove him over in one of her firm's cars—_with_ driver—safe due to the heavily tinted windows. They were let into the bank by a side entrance that was in shadow already, the sun getting low on the horizon now. And here, at last, Rex came face to face with another demon, albeit a peaceful one. The demon paled at the sight of the vampire, because he could tell what Rex was, but Rex just smiled politely and stated that he would be pleased to do his banking here. After that, things proceeded smoothly, although it turned out that Ms. Crowder _still_ had no idea that her client was a vampire; in her eyes, he was just a wealthy—if very pale—man.

When the lawyer stepped out momentarily, purportedly to use the ladies' room, Rex arranged for most of his remaining funds to go to an offshore account, still to be accessed through this bank. And the demon banker, as he gave the vampire slips and bags to use to make future deposits, swore on his progeny's lives never to reveal what Rex truly was. All told, Rex felt it to be a good day.

He brought home pizzas and a number of movies, along with a forty-inch flatscreen TV for the stable, and stayed in that night. The deal would be finalized on Monday; Ms. Crowder would call him once she had the paperwork ready for him, and she would wait at the office until it was safe for him to come out, despite its meaning she would be working 'way past closing time. By Tuesday, the old academy would be his, all legal and proper, wax seal on the papers and everything.

~oOo~

The children were restless on Saturday, waking Rex shortly after 11 AM. He snarled at them, more in reaction than by intention, making most of them cower back in fear. His two little girls edged over to him shyly, though, offering hesitant smiles. He couldn't resist that, and opened his arms to them, as he had a few days earlier. This time there was no hesitation on their parts, despite his earlier show of fangs, as they snuggled close to his cool body. "I know you are bored, little ones," he said, gently hugging them to him. "Be patient just a few days more. I have found us a good place to live, a place where you can safely go out and play in the sunshine, even. You will have your own rooms, even when I bring others home to join you."

"You're going to expand the Stable, Master?" Collins asked in concern.

"Yes. I will try to choose more carefully, though; we do not need problems like Starla, if I can avoid it. Plus, I will need to find some boys, so that Jamie can have companions also. I think you will be content with what I have found for my lair, Collins: there is a large kitchen, which should be easy enough to upgrade to usable condition. The children and I will live in one of the other buildings while you supervise the men doing the work in the main 'house.' Then I will upgrade the other buildings as needed."

"You know they're gonna figure out that you're keeping kids out there, wherever, without sending them to school, right? That's kinda against the law; kids have to be schooled until at least 16. The only way around that is to home-school 'em."

"So we will home-school," Rex said with a shrug. "They will get a better education that way; I have not been very impressed by most of the young people I have run into, the last decade or so."

"Just how old _are_ you, Master Rex?" Collins finally grew bold enough to ask. He'd wondered for several days now, for the vampire struck him as very old-fashioned in his views about some things, and his speech-patterns were decidedly odd.

"I was turned in August of 1863, right after the second battle for Chattanooga," the vampire said, his voice quiet. "Master Zachary, my Sire, was stalking among the dead and dying on the battlefield, taking blood from one dying body or another, as the mood struck him. I do not know what he saw in me that night, but he drained and turned me, then carried my body away to rise in safety. He was not a tolerant Master; because of him I vowed to do better by my own Childer. And by my Stable, should the day come that I would keep one. Humans did not tend to live very long, in his keeping."

"Glad it's you, then," Collins replied, feeling a chill run up and down his spine at his Master's words.

"I mean to go on as I have begun," Rex assured his humans, noting the wide eyes of the children who had listened to his words also. "Now, _if_ you can keep the noise down to a dull roar, I need some more sleep. I have to go out tonight to feed; I do not care to get caught or dusted due to lack of sleep."

They scattered before him as he headed back to his bedding, reminding him of leaves caught in an autumn breeze. He must have been more tired than he'd thought, for he dropped back off to sleep nearly as soon as his head hit the pillow, and didn't reawaken until nearly dusk.

~o~

This night was crisp and cool, feeling more like fall than spring. He stalked and drained another drug dealer, marking the body as had become his habit. This one didn't have nearly as much cash on him, but it would do, he supposed. The man's bodyguard, who had stepped into an alley to take a leak, showed up just after Rex had leaped to the top of a nearby building. He looked around himself wildly after seeing the word "drugs" carved into the dealer's forehead, then took to his heels in terror. The sound of Rex's laughter followed him into the night, giving him nightmares that would plague him for the rest of his years—despite the life of good works that he took up.

The vampire was in an exceptionally good mood now. It was still early, but he wasn't hungry enough to do any serious hunting. On a whim, he decided to swing back by the bus station, just to see what might be there. Parking in the dark corner of the lot again, he watched as two men pulled up and started asking the ticket agent a bunch of questions. He could hear the man's reluctance to answer at first, until one of the pair took out a small folder and showed the clerk something within. After that he answered what he could, but he had little real information for the two men, whom Rex realized with suppressed laughter had to be police detectives. He watched them from the shadows, carefully cataloguing their scents, until they left, unsatisfied, but realizing that the ticket agent truly knew nothing about the murder that had occurred near there.

As they pulled away in their unmarked car, a bus pulled into the station.

Only one person got off this time, a teenage boy in worn clothing. He smiled confidently at the driver, waved at the ticket agent, then headed off down the street as if he belonged there, and knew where he was going. Rex watched in concern as a figure detached itself from the shadows and began to trail after the boy.

_What is it about bus stations and runaways?_ the vampire thought to himself as he closed the distance between himself and the stalker. He put on a spurt of speed as the other hunter pushed the boy into a convenient alley, catching him as he shoved his intended victim up against one wall.

Nikolaus Morovitch was hungry. He had eaten three nights earlier—a homeless man—but cops were all over the city, and he wasn't a very bold hunter. He had seen the boy walking away into the dark, all alone, and it had been too tempting to resist. Now he had his prey… but a supernaturally strong hand pulled him away before he could bite the warm throat. In gameface he snarled at whoever it was who dared to interrupt him… and froze, shocked at the feeling of age and power that rolled off this unknown vampire.

The boy gawked, frozen in terror, as the two monsters snarled at each other. He'd watched TV; if _that_ could be believed, these were… _vampires?_ In total disbelief, he watched the one who'd first grabbed him fall to his knees, offering his throat to the second, crying out, "Master, I didn't realize he was yours! Forgive me!"

Then the one on the ground... his face _warped,_ and then he was looking at a face as human as his own. He whimpered softly, unable to stop the sound from escaping. The burning gold eyes in the standing demon's face focused on him, before that face changed also.

Rex ignored the young vampire cowering at his feet in favor of the young human male. He had shifted back to his human mask so he wouldn't frighten the boy any more than he already was. "Do you have a place to go, boy?" he asked in a level tone. "Or are you a runaway? Do not lie to me, for I will smell it on you," he cautioned as the boy opened his mouth to answer.

The kid paused, then took another breath. Finally he answered slowly, "Runaway."

Rex regarded him a moment longer, then nodded. "You will come with me, then. I will see you fed and cared for in my Stable—you will_ not_ try to run from me, either. Now you say, 'Yes, Master.'"

"Uh… Yes, Master?" the boy responded, but it sounded more like a question from him.

"Good," Rex replied nonetheless, before turning his attention to the other vampire. "Now, as for _you…"_

"Please, master," the other vampire pleaded. "Let me serve you. I have no one; my Sire was staked two months ago, and I am _so_ hungry. I won't bite your boy, though, I _swear_ it, Master. Please…?"

_This one is just a minion, and a timid one at that,_ Rex thought idly as he studied the cowering vampire before him. He had seen no sign of any other vampires in the city since he'd arrived; talk of staking made him think of Slayers, which would explain the dearth of his own kind. Left on his own, this one could unwittingly draw unwelcome attention to Rex… "You may come and serve me," he finally decided, "but I will dust you myself if you bite _any_ of my humans. Come, both of you," he added, taking careful hold of the human's arm and drawing him along at his side as he left the alley, followed by the minion. "I will find you acceptable prey," he told that one. "We do not attack humans indiscriminately. This one will wait in the car for us while I see you fed."

He was surprised that the boy made no outcry, but stayed quiet as they slipped through the shadows back to the bus station, and Rex's old Expedition. The collar and leather cuffs that he'd removed from Starla were still inside; he put those on the boy, who made no attempt to resist, then drove off to his old, first lair in the factory. That would be a good place to hide both the boy and the car while he saw to the minion's needs, and there was good hunting nearby.

Fifteen minutes later, he watched as his newly acquired minion drank down a pimp after Rex had slit the scum's throat. "Do not bite them, _ever,"_ he cautioned the younger vampire. "Use a knife, even if you do lose a bit of the blood. And only pimps and drug dealers are fair game—I have my reasons, which _you_ do not need to know."

"Yes, Master," Nick replied, more than happy to obey those strictures, if it got him a safe haven with a strong Master. He watched curiously as Rex made some cuts on the body's face, after emptying the man's pockets, then followed as they left the corpse where it had fallen.

~oOo~

VAMPIRE VIGILANTE STRIKES AGAIN; TWO MORE SLAIN

~o~

Detectives Sullivan and Murphy cringed as their captain literally screamed at them for not getting results yet.

And the minion now called Nick was added to Rex's growing household.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"Why don't we have a date for his court-martial yet?!" Colonel Heiser demanded angrily. Things had very much not been going his way lately, and so his temper was worse than normal. And now… _Now_ they were sending some damned inspection team in, with no advance warning. _Hell_ of a way to start the week…

Major Greene bore his superior's temper in silence. What could he say, after all? _He_ surely had no idea what was holding up the Justice Department—maybe the problem was finding officers with high enough clearance for the trial? He wasn't fool enough to suggest _that_ out loud, though.

A tap at the office door presaged the entrance of the colonel's clerk. "They're here, sir," the man said, then swung the colonel's office door open to admit a strange party.

There was a general—a three-star—that Heiser only vaguely remembered seeing before, followed by General Payne—also a three-star—and a major, a sergeant with an unfamiliar unit patch, and two more men in black uniforms with no insignia of any sort, except for their name-tapes and a variation of the same odd patch. It took a few moments before Greene realized that the last two men were actually vampires—unleashed, _unrestrained_ vampires!

"Heiser, you're a disgrace!" General Payne snarled as the colonel stood to come to attention. "I told you to get results here; instead, you nearly destroy the program singlehandedly. Your efficiency ratings are in the crapper, and now I hear that you're allowing Medical to slaughter trained Hunters. Are you out of your mind, man?!" The general was nearly gurgling in rage.

Colonel Heiser clearly had no idea what had hit him. "But, General Payne…" he began, but was cut off by the other general.

"Enough; Mitch, I'd like a tour of this hellhole; I want to see what's going on for myself, and I know that Master Ripper does too. _And_ I want to see Medical's records—I think we should start there, actually—_before_ they can destroy any incriminating evidence."

"Oh, very well," Payne grumbled, yielding grudgingly to his associate. "Come along, Heiser. Bring your lackey with you; let's see what's going on here."

Major Greene colored at being called a lackey, but he could say nothing in protest. He just _knew_ that Sergeant Taylor was to blame for this. Somehow he must have gotten a message out, but just who these other officers and vamps were, Greene had no clue. He followed along in silence, hoping for the best.

Their inspection in Medical was a… _Disaster_ was putting it mildly. They found videos of vivisections that the "doctors" tried to pass off as old, but an orderly there admitted that they had been of one of the Hunters, H394V. The inspectors were sickened by what they saw on the final recording, which continued right up until the victim dusted. Further enquiries showed that this had been done in response to the reactions of that vampire and two others when another Hunter had dusted in the field one night.

And then they found the file listing the "tests" that had been planned for H386V, should they ever re-acquire that vampire.

Half the medical staff was arrested on the spot, including the chief medical officer, Colonel Wu.

General Payne was livid; the other general, Durgan, radiated a cold fury that was far more frightening.

"All right," General Durgan grated out between clenched teeth. "So far, our information has been right on the money. I want to see the vampire quarters now. They were bad enough the last time I was here…"

In some respects there were no changes, but in others, things were far worse. Most of the vampires were little more than skin and bones. A few had a little more weight on them, but not by much. The two vampires on the inspection team growled angrily and vamped out when they saw the chained, starved beings in what these humans callously called "kennels."

"This is what Spike was afraid of, isn't it, Ripper?" the younger-looking vampire said to his companion.

"Yeah," the other said, then turned to glare at Heiser. "Just how do you expect _anyone_ to fight demons in this condition, human? We have to have blood to have any strength; it's clear that these vamps are barely being fed enough to keep them from dusting!"

"The doctors said they were getting enough," Heiser tried to explain, but stopped at the fangs being bared in his direction by the one called Ripper.

"Where are the handlers?" he demanded with a hiss. "I want to see the bastards that could let this happen to _anything_ left in their care."

"They didn't have a lot of choice," a soldier all in black said, walking up to them and coming to attention. "Captain Miller, sirs," he said, identifying himself. "Sergeant Taylor and some of the others smuggled extra blood in for their Hunters when they could, but the colonel, there, started having them searched when they came back in from passes. Any blood found on them or in their vehicles, he confiscated." He ignored the glare that Greene sent his way at that statement.

"First thing that needs to happen here, Mitch, is that these Vamps need to be fed. I'm assuming that small meals, frequently, is a better idea than a heavy gorge, same as for a human, yes?" Durgan said, turning to look at one of the vampires who'd come with him.

"Probably," Ripper agreed, looking in at several other captives. "Why are there extra bedrolls in some of those cells?" he asked, turning to the human who'd called himself Miller for his answer.

"Early on, some guys would come down here to rape the vamps. Some of the handlers took to sleeping down here to protect their Hunters. The major tried to stop 'em, but short of chaining the handlers in their quarters at night, there really wasn't much he could do. Some still sleep down here," the captain explained, pulling no punches.

"It's a good thing you're not on _our_ base," the other visiting vampire said, his tone not indicating his ire as he glared at the base commander. "We'd tear you apart in a heartbeat. You're not fit to command a _garbage scow,_ never mind good fighting men, Colonel Heiser."

"How dare you threaten me!" Heiser blustered, but he had no idea how to deal with vampires who acted as if they were free.

The second vampire turned to the major he'd come with. "Major Fielding, can I eat him? Please?" he asked, his tone light, but those who knew him could tell that he really wasn't joking.

"Better not, Master Tony," the sergeant in the group said before the major could respond. "He'd likely give you heartburn…or food…ahhh, blood poisoning, at least."

General Durgan sighed. "Where's the soldier who set the vampire loose, being held? We were given to understand that he might be in some sort of danger; fears were expressed that he might be castrated by your 'doctors;' I wish to check on his condition personally."

_"What?!"_ Heiser was appalled and confused by that accusation. "No one would do such a thing; he's a man, not a damned vampire—" He cut himself off, jumping back in terror as Ripper just barely prevented Tony from tearing his throat out.

"Tony, _no!"_ Ripper shouted as he restrained his lieutenant. "Let the court-martial decide his punishment."

"He better hope the guys in the Rockpile don't get hold of him if they hear _that," _Tony hissed through his fangs. "They'd rip _his_ balls off an' stuff 'em down his throat."

"Yeah, well, he's gotta have a throat _left_ for that to happen, Master," the sergeant said with a chuckle, but they could see the anger in _his_ eyes as well.

"That's enough, Colonel," General Payne said in disgust. "I believe that I see where the problem here lies. You're relieved of duty; I'll have a replacement in here soonest. Your attitude is revolting, and unbecoming an officer. You will return to your quarters immediately, and not leave them except under escort. Is that clear?"

"Yes, General Payne," Heiser answered, looking lost and confused now. He left, followed by another of the black-clad soldiers who'd seemed just to materialize in the corridor as the inspection progressed.

Some of the men carried small coolers, Durgan noted; these began entering the cells, and he realized that they had warmed blood-bags in them. He saw Ripper make a face… "What's wrong?" he asked curiously.

"It's pig's blood, and days old," the vampire responded, his mouth pinched tight in disgust. "I can smell it from here."

"Human would be better for them," one soldier commented. "That's what Taylor said, anyway, but I don't think we have any here."

"Rip, it don't look like they care; they're too hungry to be picky right now," Tony said as he watched the vampire closest to him drain the bag he was offered without the slightest hesitation.

"See that they get the _proper_ food from now on," General Payne ordered, realizing that this mess could easily be laid at _his_ door. _He_ had given the general orders, and had picked the base CO for this project, _and_ okayed the medical staff here. He had ignored his friend's warnings, had just signed off on the reports; he had not come to check up on things for himself when they started going bad, just chewed out the highest ranking officer in charge at the base. All he could do now was try to correct his errors.

"Master Tony's Pet can leave feeding and care instructions for the handlers," Ripper offered, trying to be helpful. "Right now, I'd like to check on Master Rex's Pet."

"They've got Taylor locked up down this way," Miller helpfully offered, understanding to whom the vampire was referring. He waved a hand back the way they'd come, as he turned to take the lead. "Of course, they won't let _us_ in to see him; _we_ might turn him loose, like he did his Hunter. Or so they seem to think."

"Why do I get the feeling that they'd be right?" Tony whispered to Ripper, so softly that only another vampire could hear.

The older Master just laughed as he followed his guide to a different set of cells, and a Master Vampire's captive Pet.

~o~

They were heading back toward the base CO's office when the two vampires suddenly stopped in their tracks, cocking their heads to listen intently. Tony looked at Ripper. "That was a gunshot," he said, just before the PA system came online, calling a medical team—_stat—_to Colonel Heiser's quarters.

~oOo~

Monday afternoon it rained. Rex smiled, for Ms. Crowder had called shortly after midmorning—Collins had taken the call, identifying himself as Rex's personal assistant—to tell them that the papers were ready any time Rex could come in to sign them. He called to tell her that he was on his way, then left, his mood extremely good. All the i's dotted and t's crossed, it was only five when he left the building. He decided to explore around the city a bit more, since it was still so early.

He found himself heading towards the bus station once more, or at least that general area of the city. The tenement buildings were high here, and packed close together. They reminded him of some sections of the New York City of his time, although the buildings were much taller these days. He would even be able to walk here in late afternoon without too much trouble or risk, except, perhaps, in midsummer.

His musings were interrupted by two shots and the sight of three men running out of a storefront that was marked with a caduceus on a red cross. He found himself oddly furious that someone would attack a doctor's office or a clinic, a place trying to provide care in an obviously low-income area. Acting on sheer impulse, he parked the car midway down the block in the first available spot, and walked back to see what had happened.

None of the frightened patients in the waiting room appeared injured, fortunately, although he could still smell a lot of blood from somewhere in the back. He pushed his way past the nearly hysterical receptionist and stalked through the door as if he owned the place. A shaken nurse looked over at him, but she didn't release the pressure she was holding on another woman's shoulder. A third woman was bent over an older man, trying to stem the bleeding while extracting a bullet—she didn't have enough hands for her task.

"Let me help," Rex offered, bending down to do so.

The woman looked at him. "Are you a… no, I can see you're not," she corrected herself, then nodded towards a counter at the side of a small, open exam room. "Put some gloves on, first," she instructed, watching as Rex rose once more and did as bidden. She wasn't going to turn down _any_ offer of help, and this stranger clearly wasn't upset at the sight of blood. With his help, it didn't take her much longer to remove the bullet and apply a compress; then she changed her gloves and went to see to the other victim.

Out in the waiting room, Rex could hear men's voices now—the police arriving, no doubt. His guess was confirmed when the receptionist stuck her head into the back and asked, in a trembling voice, if the officers could come back.

"In a few more minutes," the woman Rex had assisted said. "I'm nearly finished here. Did anyone call an ambulance?"

"Yes, Doctor," the receptionist replied, surprising Rex. A _woman_ doctor? In _his_ day, she would have been, at most, a nurse… But yes, in some respects, things _had_ changed for the better.

"Thank you, Mr….?" the doctor said, moving back as her nurse finished bandaging the wound, to peel her bloody gloves off.

"Julius Alexander," the vampire said, finding it easier to use his old name now. "You may call me Rex, though," he nodded with a smile.

"I'm Dr. Francesca Bauneau; I take afternoon duty here. Most people run from trouble, Mr. Rex," she said as she studied her latest volunteer. He was so pale, she noted, becoming concerned for his own health.

"Just Rex, please," he corrected her in a gentle voice. "I heard the shots, and saw men running from here as I was driving past…"

"The police will want to speak to you, then," she said, not really surprised when he frowned.

He grimaced slightly. "And _that_ would be why most people choose not to become involved," he muttered, resigned to coming face to face with the authorities.

"Most likely," Dr. Bauneau laughed briefly back at him. "I can't hold them off any longer, though, or they won't catch the thieves—not that they will, anyway," she added unhappily. "They never do, although maybe because Stacy was shot…"

The ambulance crew arrived then, allowing Rex to slip out in the attendant confusion. He waited around the corner of the block, keeping an eye out for the police to leave. They finally did, but he waited until he could hear the staff leaving the clinic for the night, and he watched as the woman that had been identified as the doctor, exited the building last, locking up after everyone else had left. Then he eased out of the shadows at Dr. Bauneau's side, drawing a startled squeak from her—and dodging the mace she sprayed at him.

"Gently," he laughed lightly as she gaped at his speed. "I do not mean you any harm; I just wish to talk to you, Doctor…?"

"Bauneau," she told him again. "You… how do you move so fast?"

"It is in my nature," Rex told her, shrugging it off. "The robbery today: does this sort of thing happen often?" he asked, bending to pick up the car keys that she'd dropped when he'd startled her.

"More than I'd like," she answered with a sigh, although she gave him a slight smile as she accepted her keys back. "They break in for the drugs they assume we stock, although they usually wait until we close for the night. We don't keep much on hand just because of that."

Closely watching him, she half-turned to unlock her car, then faced him again. "Are you sure you're all right? You're terribly pale…"

Rex restrained a sigh. "It is normal for me, since I have to avoid all sunlight." He found himself irritated at having to give explanations to yet another human, and his control slipped, allowing his eyes to flash yellow momentarily.

"Oh, my," Dr. Bauneau muttered, crossing herself unconsciously. She froze when she realized what she'd done, and looked at him with fear in her eyes.

"I said I would not hurt you," Rex reiterated, his irritation showing in his voice now. "This changes nothing. Will your nurses be all right, Madam?" he continued with his own questions.

"Yes, although Dr. Nyles will be out on sick leave for a couple of weeks—the man you assisted me with," she explained at Rex's raised eyebrow.

"I am pleased to hear that," he said, surprised to find that to be the truth. "But you said that the police do not catch such thieves often? Or is it that they do not try very hard?"

"No; I think they try," she said finally, opening her car door and sitting inside, although he did not let her close it yet. "They're just spread so thin normally, and now with this vigilan…" She stopped in shock as she realized what she was saying—and, most likely, to whom.

"Shh," Rex murmured, fighting back a chuckle. "I am sorry if I made it harder for you. Perhaps you will think better of me if _I_ can find your thieves? Perhaps I will put you and your people under my protection, so those scoundrels will think twice in the future before attacking your clinic…" He had a thoughtful look in his eyes now, as he considered the possible benefits of such a move.

"What…what are you?" Dr. Bauneau finally worked up the courage to ask.

"Why, my dear doctor, I think you know," Rex said, slipping into gameface. "I am a vampire, as you so rightly suspect." And then he was gone into the deepening darkness.

~oOo~

The locals were horrified the next morning when body parts were found strewn along the sidewalk and street in front of the Northside Neighborhood Clinic. The city's ME finally determined that there were three bodies, although the three heads left in a neat line right in front of the door led them to expect that. The heads had belonged to known criminals, each with a long rap sheet of violent crimes…

But what puzzled the authorities was the paper bag left just behind the row of severed heads, carefully sandwiched between them and the clinic's front door, containing the greater part of the drugs stolen the previous afternoon.

Dr. Bauneau shuddered, appalled at the carnage, but oddly grateful, knowing that somewhere out there a fierce protector now watched over her and her nurses.

~o~

"You do realize, don'tcha, Murph, that some freak is out there, doing our job better than we're allowed to?" Detective Tommy Sullivan quietly asked his partner as they walked away from yet another ass-chewing from their captain.

"Yeah," Detective Jimmy Murphy answered with a thoughtful frown. "I'm just hopin' the day never comes that he decides _we_ need t' be punished for incompetence or something. I don't think there'll be much left o' us, either."

"Me neither, bro; me neither."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Wednesday afternoon Rex found an e-mail waiting for him on his laptop when he woke.

℞ – Got news. Call . MT

_Well, _that's_ cryptic enough,_ Rex thought with a laugh that drew Collin's attention.

"Good news?" the human asked, drawing the eyes of the children to their Master; the young ones looked curious, Rex thought.

"News, yes," he answered. "I do not know if it will be good or not. The weather?"

"Rain again this afternoon, Master," Collins answered with a chuckle of his own. "Safe enough for you to go out, I think."

"And late enough," Rex agreed. "I still have to pick up the keys to my new lair—there was some sort of holdup yesterday, so I will get those, then make a call. See that the stable is packed and ready to move when I return. Nick, with me," he ordered, thinking that he sounded very like the soldiers that he had mocked not long before. And like those soldiers, his minion jumped to obey. Rex spared a moment to look the young vampire over, nodding in approval. He had gone… shop-_lifting_ last night, picking out casual but nice-looking clothes for the younger vampire. He would pass inspection as a driver, Rex decided, thinking it handy that Nick actually could drive, and very well at that.

He had his "driver" drop him off in front of Rubin, Slater, and Sons, Attys, the law firm he'd chosen to handle his affairs. Ms. Crowder came down to meet him in the lobby within three minutes of his arrival, earning an approving smile from Rex for her promptness.

"I am _so_ sorry for the delay, Mr. Alexander," his lawyer began apologetically. Rex could smell actual _worry_ coming from her and wondered what had gone wrong now. But she continued. "If you would come up to my office, I have all your paperwork and deeds completed. The realtors were dragging their heels for some reason; I've just sent someone over to pick up the keys for you personally."

"I have a few minutes to spare," he allowed, trying to sound gracious as he followed her into the room and settled into a sleek yet comfortable chair in front of her desk. "There will not be any problem with my car, will there? My driver is right outside with it."

"Oh, no; but I can have someone direct him around to staff parking if you wish? Just to be sure," she added anxiously.

"No, that should be fine," Rex said, unsure if the minion could be trusted around humans not his Master's. He covered his uncertainty with a chuckle. "If there _are_ any problems, I am sure that you can take care of them, yes?"

"Oh, yes, certainly." She visibly relaxed now that she saw her client wasn't upset by the delay. Some of their clients were _so_ unreasonable and entitled-acting. "Would you care for something while you wait? Something to drink, perhaps?"

He'd expected some such offer. "Just some water, if you would," Rex replied, remembering manners from his human days.

Ms. Crowder's smile widened, and she buzzed her secretary to pass on his request. She passed over a folder of documents while they waited, then went over each bit with him: the title, insurance policies, tax forms and the various permits that she had obtained for him for the work needed to update the facility to meet modern building and electrical codes.

"I wasn't sure what you intended for the property," she explained with some hesitation. "But, since it _had_ been a school once, I looked up all the current codes and regulations for that type of facility, in case that was what you wanted. Boarding schools have to meet the most stringent requirements, so if you upgrade to those standards, you could use the property for absolutely anything."

"Thank you, that was very thoughtful of you," Rex told her, finding that he actually meant it. He would have to find out what an appropriate gift would be to show his appreciation. It may have been her job to smooth the way for him, but it seemed to him that she was doing more than necessary.

They sat there, Ms. Crowder trying desperately to make small talk with Rex to pass the time. Finally, twenty minutes later, a young man came bursting into the office without knocking or looking around. "Got 'em!" he exclaimed, huffing for breath. "You'd think they were parting with their firstborn sons or somethin'…" He stopped at Ms. Crowder's scowl, finally taking a moment to look around the office and seeing her guest. He turned a deep red. "Sorry; I didn't realize…" he gulped out a shaky apology.

"That is quite all right," Rex said, amused by this young human's embarrassment. "Are those my keys?"

"Uh, yessir?" the boy said as he cast a look over at Crowder for confirmation. He passed the large ring of tagged keys to him after she nodded, then hastily excused himself and retreated from the room as fast as he could.

Rex met her eyes and barely kept from exploding into laughter. "Would it be considered improper to offer him a tip?" he asked, not sure what human manners allowed anymore.

"If you wish," she chuckled back. "He _was_ fast, considering where he had to go to get them. I have an envelope here, if you wish."

"Thank you again," Rex said, accepting the offered envelope and pulling out a billfold he'd… _acquired _when he'd gone… _shopping_ with Nick. He knew what things cost now, so he enclosed a twenty-dollar bill and sealed the envelope. He passed it back to his attorney and watched as she wrote a name on the outside, then smiled up at him.

"Well, you've got everything now," she said, sounding regretful as she stood to see her client to the door.

He rose and took her hand once more, smiling back at her. "Thank you for your assistance," he told her, exerting his full charm. "Be assured that I will be back to see you if I need legal services again." Then he was striding out of her office, hoping that Nick hadn't gotten into any trouble while he waited.

All was peaceful and quiet out front. Nick waited with the car right where he'd been left, and grinned as Rex climbed into his seat. "Where to, Boss?" the young Vampire quipped, mimicking the humans he'd heard on TV shows.

Rex just smiled at him, allowing his mellow mood to continue. He gave directions to the factory he'd chosen, then sat back while Nick drove and watched the humans going about their business, oblivious to the monsters in their midst. Some of the factories in that area were still in operation, he discovered as they neared their destination, so Rex had Nick drive around a little longer, then park outside a supermarket.

"I hate these places," Rex confided to his minion. "Once we are well established, I think that I will make Collins do all the shopping for the stable. But we still have to feed them until we are settled in the lair, so I suppose I may as well get us some supplies, since we are here."

This task had gotten somewhat easier with practice, so Rex soon left with a cart full of fruit and frozen dinners, not pausing to wonder if there would even be power available at the new lair. They loaded the groceries into the Expedition, then headed back to see if the coast was clear around the factory yet.

Safely inside with the car, Rex retrieved the cell phone from its hiding place and dialed Master Ripper's number. "What news of my Pet?" he asked as soon as Ripper had identified himself.

"Hello to you, too, Rex," Ripper laughed briefly, then sobered. "Your Pet is fine, if bored with being locked up. They haven't decided what to do about him yet. I _do_ know that he's in no danger of being castrated."

_"That_ is good to hear, at least," Rex sighed in relief. "But you said you had news?"

_"Oh,_ yeah!" Ripper's laugh was positively nasty now. "We went on a surprise inspection at your old base Monday. _My_ general, my unit's major, my second and his Pet, _and_ your unit's general. We were not at all pleased with what we found there, though _we_ were not that surprised—Taylor had gotten word out to us, so we were able to help him with you, thankfully. _Your_ general was shocked; the blind fool didn't see what his subordinates were doing right under his nose, and couldn't be bothered to check up on them."

"He sounds like a very poor master, but I rather suspected that," Rex remarked dryly.

"Yeah, no argument there. Anyway, your base CO, the chief medical officer and half his staff, and your… I guess training officer—some major named Greene, I think—and _his_ staff are all under arrest and awaiting court-martial. _Those_ proceedings will _not_ be delayed as your Pet's has been."

"Any sign of my last Childe?" Rex asked. Now that he knew Taylor was safe, he could worry about other things.

"Don't know which that was," Ripper admitted with regret. "Plus, it seems that a number of Hunters have just gone 'missing;' their handlers were transferred out by order of a Colonel Wu, and the vamps just disappeared. We're looking into it."

"His name is Corey," Rex said, but he didn't expect any luck in regaining his Childe. "I _want_ Taylor back, Ripper. I have claimed him, and he has acknowledged my claim."

"Yeah, I heard that he'd been bitten recently—the doctors were going crazy when they first found the bite-mark on him. The fools thought that _that_ would be enough to turn him, or that it gave you some sort of mind-control over him."

_"What?!" _Rex couldn't believe his ears. "Do they not read their own manuals? The imbeciles!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. At least _our_ humans understand us and know what the truth is. I'll do what I can to get him back for you, but I can't promise anything," Ripper added in warning.

"Well, here is something that I _can_ promise," Rex answered, his tone dark. "Do you follow the news?"

"Yeah."

"Seen the news from Minnesota? Minneapolis, to be precise?"

"Yeah; you mean that 'Vampire Vigilante' nonsense?" Ripper asked with a chuckle, until he realized… "That's you? What're you doin' _there?"_

"It was on my driver's license; I had nowhere better to go, so I thought I would check out the place. It is nice up here; I am glad that I came. Anyway, so far I have just been feeding on the less desirable members of human society. It is my current intention to continue in that vein. However, if I do not get Taylor back, this city _will_ see a bloodbath such as they have never imagined in their worst nightmares.

"Considering what the humans have subjected me to, I believe that I have shown admirable restraint. I have done so because I believe that it will please my Pet. But I will have no reason to be restrained if I will never get him back again. Perhaps you can explain _that_ to your general so that he understands what is at stake here."

"Hey, I see your point," Ripper tried to soothe the now-agitated Master Vampire on the other end of the connection. "I'll tell him, but as I said, it won't happen very quickly."

"I am being patient," Rex said, getting his temper back under control. "I am getting well established here—making contacts within the human community. It will take me some time to finish what I have begun here, so I am willing to wait to get Taylor back. I just will not wait forever. Tell them that, Master Ripper. And tell them also what a Master with over a century of unlife is capable of."

"Yeah, I will…" Ripper said, but he realized that the other vampire had ended the call with no farewells.

"That's not good," Tony said, having heard the whole conversation.

"Could be a lot worse, considering how he was treated. I better go let the colonel know, so _he_ can tell General Durgan."

"Yeah, better Townsend than us," Tony laughed, but they were sober as they headed for the command offices.

~oOo~

Rex tore the throats out of three procurers that night, gorging as he tried to control his rage. Nick kept his head down, not wanting to become collateral damage, until his Master finally called him over to share in the third victim.

Calmer, they headed back to their current lair to pick up and relocate the stable to the old academy.

~o~

The day didn't get better anytime soon. Oh, yes, Rex thought with a snarl, the stable was all packed up and ready to go. Collins had rented a small panel van while he was gone and already had it loaded with the flatscreen, refrigerator, microwave, and all of their clothes and bedding. He had used his own driver's license to rent the van, so it couldn't be traced back to Rex, aka Mr. Alexander, should anyone care to look. All Rex had to do was get the children into the Expedition and lead the way out to the new lair. The vampire was slightly annoyed, at first, by his human's presumption, but he finally calmed when he realized that by doing this, there was no delay while they loaded the gear. Also, he could see that it would not have fit in one trip with just the Expedition…

But they pulled in through the gates of the old academy at last, and Rex finally allowed himself to relax… but, _of course,_ it proved to be too soon.

They drove to one of the farther "cottages," or dormitories, and all worked together to unload both vehicles. The young stable members were bringing bags of personal gear and groceries into the building's lobby, while the two vampires and Collins brought in the appliances and bedding.

And then they discovered there was no power.

No electricity, which meant no refrigeration. No freezer; no microwave. No lights; no computers, except for their limited battery power, and, worst of all, no TV or videos. It was all Rex could do to keep from going on a rampage.

"What time is it?" Collins asked, showing none of the submissive behavior that he had been exhibiting lately.

"What?" Rex demanded, eyes blazing gold and in full gameface. This was one frustration too many.

"What time is it?" Collins repeated patiently, pulling out Rex's laptop and firing it up. "If it's not too late, we may still be able to get a gas generator to make our own electricity." He turned his attention back to the laptop now, waiting for it to finish booting up. He thanked God for the fact that Rex had gotten a _good_ machine, one with not just WiFi, but also satellite uplink capability. He pulled up maps once he had the Internet, and looked for the nearest Lowes or Home Depot.

"It is 8:30; will we have time?" Rex was fighting his temper back under control now.

"Don't know 'til we try, Master," Collins said, pulling out the keys to the van once more. "Hop in. You read me the directions, okay?"

~o~

They pulled up to a Builder's Supply right at 9 PM, just as the doors were being locked. Collins did some really fast talking and managed to convince the store manager to let them in, citing children needing food and heat, but having no power. They had just arrived at a recently purchased outlying farm from out of state; the power was _supposed_ to be on, but wasn't, and all their food would go bad. No water without power, either.

She sighed and let them in, assigning two employees to help them so they'd get out faster. One large gas generator, several fuel cans, and two space heaters later, they were loaded up and out the doors once more. Collins stopped to fill the cans with gasoline and got kerosene for the space heaters, then they were on their way back.

Rex knew that he would have blown up at the human; they'd only gotten what they needed due to Collins' skills of persuasion. He would have to get some older stable members, soon, so that his stable-chief would have some competent help and not have to do _all_ the dirty work. It would give the human more status in the lair, and Rex knew that he richly deserved it—and that was even before the miracle he'd managed to pull off tonight.

He looked over at the human, who was still driving. "It was a good idea you had, Collins, getting this second van. Not only would everything not have fit in my car, but we would have been too late to get the generator, after a second trip." He watched the man carefully, noting the pleased look on his face at the words of praise. "I think it would be wise to buy one of these vans, also—but, I think, one without any windows in the back. Your thoughts on the matter?"

"Hmmm. I think you're right, Master," Collins said slowly, casting a brief glance over at the vampire before watching the road once more. "We might wanna get one with seats in back, the kind that can be removed when you need more cargo space. Might want to trade in that Expedition for something a little less noticeable, too—or just buy a nondescript car to go hunting in. I don't know what the money looks like, though." He looked uncertain of how the vampire—his Master—was receiving these suggestions.

Rex was nodding his head, though, clearly thinking things over. "The van first, I think," he finally said with another look at his human. "We still have to return this one, yes? Will car dealers be open tomorrow—yes, it is still a weekday," he answered his own question. "Weather permitting, we will look tomorrow."

"One other thing you could do, Master." Collins looked cautiously at Rex, continuing when he got a nod of approval. "You could maybe break into a DMV office some night and lift some old, returned license plates. Be even better if you make off with current-year stickers for 'em. You put those on your car when you go hunting, and, even if somebody remembers seeing the same vehicle in the area, they won't be able to trace it back to you. If the cops run the plates, they'll show up as cancelled registration, and they won't even think twice—lots of people keep driving with old plates, even though they shouldn't. If they _do_ check up on the plates further, they'll get someone else's name and address, and the wrong vehicle type."

Rex laughed. "Now you are starting to think like a vampire."

"Got a good teacher, Master." Collins smiled at Rex again, then turned his full attention back to the road and the rapidly thinning traffic.

~oOo~

**VAMPIRE VIGILANTE STRIKES AGAIN**

**Bloodiest slayings yet; three men murdered in the red light district.**

Last night the men, rumored to be pimps…

~o~

"Captain, I keep tellin' ya," Detective Murphy protested angrily now. "He don't strike in _any_ one area. It's like he's movin' around the city on purpose, just so's we _don't_ know where he'll hit next."

"He's hit that area twice, true, but that's where the most pimps c'n be found, sir," Detective Sullivan chimed in. "They seem to be his preferred target."

_"FIND HIM!"_ the Homicide captain screamed, purple with rage. "I don't care _what_ you gotta do; _find_ his murdering ass and either lock him up, or kill him! Now get the hell outta here!"

"Yessir," the two detectives chorused, then beat one more hasty retreat out of his office.

~o~

"General Durgan, sir? Colonel Townsend is on the line for you…"


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The next three months were a strain. The power was on at last, as was the water, despite Rex himself having to go and sign the paperwork. Workmen swarmed over the old main building of the academy six days a week, keeping Collins fully occupied. The children, being adaptable, managed to switch over to mostly vampire hours; they went outside in the early evening to play once the work stopped for the day. Rex didn't want them seen by anyone, so this was necessary, even though it meant that _he_ had to supervise them himself—Collins needed his rest.

The work itself was a major undertaking. The last update to the building had been shortly after World War II, so there was a lot of general repair work that needed to be done. The harsh northern winters were hard on buildings, and these had been neglected for many years, with no upkeep at all.

They started by replacing the roof; the old one had several leaks, as shown by stained ceilings inside. Old rafters were replaced as needed, one section having a patch of dry-rot starting. Rex had Collins order the highest-rated insulation to be installed in the old attic, and he made sure that that was what was actually used.

He had all the windows replaced, having gotten the number of a special firm in California from Ripper's Colonel Townsend. Not only were they modern, energy-efficient models, they had necro-tinted glass. Each had to be made to order, since the old frames and windows were non-standard and varied from window to window―although they all _looked_ like they were the same size to the casual observer. These were the only items not purchased locally, though. Rex made sure that all of their construction materials were purchased from the builder's supply store that had helped them that late evening. Collins had gone with the contractor to set up their account; the manager had seen and recognized him, and realized that her kind impulse had now paid her back with some major business.

Inside the building, the interior paneling was carefully removed from the ground-floor "public" areas, to be re-used once the upgrade work was finished. This was real wood, nearly impossible to get now at anything but an exorbitant price, and Rex found himself nostalgic for the look and "feel" imparted by such materials. Someone, during the years the building had been in use, had put down some type of hideous poured floor; the vampire was having this removed, and replaced with a good stone flooring―polished granite, such as had probably been there originally.

As for the rest—_all _the plumbing was torn out and replaced, once it was seen that lead piping had been used. Collins had had a fit when he'd seen that, and had carefully explained the health hazard to his Master to justify the work, only to discover that he needn't have worried. Rex had meant to have it all replaced anyway, just to prevent any leaks from the old system. The only old pipes left in place were for the old hot-water heating system— it cost a small fortune to have the old asbestos insulation removed—still the most efficient for that climate. These were carefully checked for leaks, though none were found. The old furnace was gone over carefully; a new water reservoir and a new fuel jet for the burner itself were installed by a company that specialized in such outdated systems, now found only in old government and historical buildings; future routine annual inspections and servicing for the heating system were contracted for at the same time. A new, larger storage tank was installed for the heating oil the old system used, and a new small gas-powered generator was added as a backup electrical source for the fuel pump and igniter, in case of power outages due to winter storms.

Rewiring the building was the next major project, one with which Collins was extremely well acquainted, having been an electrical engineer in the Army. It was that training which allowed him to catch the electricians trying to use wiring below the grade they had ordered. It would have met specs, but it wasn't what they were paying for; the man responsible had no idea how lucky he was that it was Collins, and not Rex, who dealt with his attempted fraud.

The kitchen was down in the basement, a common location for such facilities in very old "great houses" and institutions. This was up-dated with a large industrial range, ovens and dishwashers, although smaller "household" sized appliances were also installed there for "midnight" snacks. The place had had old "cooler" rooms for storing dairy and vegetables, although they hadn't been used in decades; these were gutted and replaced with modern chiller systems, the 1940's era refrigerators totally removed. One of the old cooler rooms was turned into a large walk-in freezer. The pantry had all-new shelving installed, as the old shelves were falling apart.

The laundry was the next area tackled; commercial-sized washers and driers replaced the outdated, smaller washing machines there. Rex decided to leave the old "drying room" alone, once used to dry the sheets and towels in adverse weather; he just had new fans emplaced and better filtration installed for the ventilation system. This was needed, as this area was right next to the underground access to the cellars, which he planned to use as a garage for his vehicles. No one would care for exhaust-smelling sheets…

Finally, all that was done, and the restoration of the ground floor, and refurbishment of the upper floors, was begun. Heavy insulation was put in all the walls; Rex's own chosen quarters—in fact, that entire wing of the building—were carefully soundproofed, so the vampire would be able to sleep during the day. Hard-wearing flooring was put down in the hallways—there would be children, after all, and they could be hard on floors—and easy-to-clean paneling installed in what would be their playrooms and common areas. These were former classrooms, and close to the wings that held what would be the stable quarters.

Rex wasn't sure what the set of rooms he'd chosen for himself had once been. Now, though, they connected to one another: a large sitting room/parlor, an office, his bedroom, a lavish bathroom, and one other room. This last room had been left with bare floor and walls, unlike the other rooms in the suite, which were finished with polished hardwood floors and earth-tone paint on the walls. The now-bare room would be finished in Taylor's choices, once his Pet was safely recovered. Until then, it would serve to remind the Master Vampire of the empty hole left in his unlife. The door to that room would be kept open at all times, a glaring reminder.

Most of the stable's rooms were also left with unpainted walls, waiting empty save for beds, dressers, desks, and chairs, for their future occupants. The young people Rex now had were allowed to choose their own paint colors and bedding, so those rooms were a riot of color. The workmen shook their heads at some of the choices. They didn't know about the children, who'd been allowed to pick their rooms and the color schemes at night, but they used the paint which the owner supplied and just cringed.

All leftover supplies were carefully stored in the nearest unused building, in anticipation of more restoration work at a future date.

~o~

Throughout all of this, Rex and Nick slept down in the cellar of the farthest cottage during the days, going back into Minneapolis at night to hunt. Rex was up to full strength now, so he didn't need to eat every night. Neither did Nick, so between the two of them, there was no set schedule. It was driving the police crazy, because they couldn't predict any kind of pattern for the killings. And then Rex decided to confuse them further, periodically heading over to the neighboring city of St. Paul to hunt.

He found a somewhat different situation there. There was a small vampire presence in St. Paul, which fed mostly on the homeless and destitute. The police mostly ignored these deaths, or made little effort to investigate, since many of these killings looked like wild dog attacks. _They_ didn't even make the news. As a change of pace, Rex started to hunt out those vampires, thinking that they might provide some sort of challenge, at least. Under his tutelage, Nick had improved his fighting skills, so he entered willingly into this game. After his second vampire kill, Rex laughed and sent Nick to find a plastic bag. He carefully gathered up the ashes, bagging them when the younger vampire returned with one, and put the bag into his pocket.

The following afternoon, Rex called Collins down to his cellar room—work on the main house was only half-finished.

"Collins, I want you to find a box and mail this to this address: Major Greene, care of Colonel Townsend, Fort Bragg." He passed over a slip of paper with the full address, as well as a plastic zip-lock bag full of ashes and a folded note. "Put the note into the box with the bag. I will notify this Colonel Townsend to expect the package." Rex watched the human to see if he realized what he held; clearly, he did not.

"Sure, Master," Collins replied, his brow creased in puzzlement.

Rex laughed at his expression. "It is vampire dust, Collins," he explained, in very good humor. "I told you we had found vamp-sign, yes? Well, we found some last night. I am sending proof of my kill to my worst… 'enemy' is too strong a word. 'Irritant,' perhaps. Anyway, I am just twisting the knife in the wound. Greene is one of those who think us just vicious animals, who would hunt only humans were we loosed on the world. This," he motioned towards the bag of dust, "is what they were using me for: to hunt other demons and creatures of the night."

"So, you shove it in his face that you're _still_ hunting demons and protecting humans," Collins finished, understanding lighting his eyes with laughter. "You're a cruel, evil man… uh, vamp, Master. Be happy to send this off."

"It is only the first," Rex warned, still smiling with that wicked glint in his eyes..

"I'll get a couple extra boxes then, Master," Collins replied, still chuckling.

"Good man," Rex said, letting his human walk away to carry out his errand.

~oOo~

Rex had his minion with him when he drove into his factory hideaway and unearthed his cell phone there. This time he didn't call, but sent a text message:

_MRip. Package sent to ColT for MjGren. Go with if u can when he opens it. Rx__._

He concealed the phone once more, then they went hunting in the red-light district.

The pimps were scared now, going out only with bodyguards. Most of these seemed to be running older women, so he wasn't quite so interested in them. They would relax their guard after a week or so; he could kill among them then. He was about to go elsewhere, hunting for drug dealers, when he caught a familiar scent

"Come with me, Nick—but do not drool at the humans," Rex cautioned, ending with a laugh at his own joke.

"Master?"

"I smell someone familiar; I wish to… explore the possibilities, let us say," the Master Vampire explained quietly before starting to stroll down the street once more, looking in the windows as innocently as possible as he searched for the source of the scent he'd noted. Nick followed at his side, grinning at the hookers they passed, but refusing all come-on gestures and glances.

Rex circled the area once, then melted down an alley. "Good," he said, turning to face Nick. "There is a man in a gray car, just sitting there quietly. He is a policeman; he is watching over his partner, who is cruising the street on foot, much as we have done. I do not want you to hurt any of them, but I want you to make a disturbance among the humans near the one in the car—start a fight, or some such thing, but do _not_ let your true nature show. I want that one's attention on you, though, while I secure his partner for a conversation. Understand?

The young vampire nodded vigorously, proud that his Master trusted him with a task this important. "Yes, Master, I understand completely. I'll get his attention, and won't get caught by any of them. I won't permanently damage any of the humans, either."

"Good. Now go."

With a last nod, Nick slipped away through the shadows to carry out his Master's command. Rex watched him go and smirked. Then he, too, moved deeper into the darkness...

~oOo~

He didn't know what had happened. One minute he was walking along the street, ogling the girls like all the other guys out there (supposedly); the next, he was being dragged into a dark alley with a hand over his mouth. A strong, _cold_ hand. Detective Murphy was a strong man, who kept himself in good shape, unlike some on the force. He'd been trained in hand-to-hand by the Navy, but he didn't stand a chance against whatever it was that had grabbed him and pushed him, face-first, into one of the alley's walls.

One of his captor's hands felt among his clothing, removing his ID folder. Murphy couldn't imagine what his assailant meant to do with that; it was 'way too dark there to read anything without at least a flashlight. But somehow…

"Be still, and be very quiet, Detective James Murphy of the Minneapolis Homicide Division. I mean only to speak with you, not to do you harm. Nod if you understand me."

Murphy found that he had just enough freedom of movement to nod his head. The hand was not yet removed from his mouth, though.

"Good," the low voice said, still speaking barely above a whisper right into his ear; the man's body kept him pinned to the wall. "I know that you are looking for me, Detective; I saw you at the bus station several months ago, asking questions about a murder that took place near there. You and your partner were there, driving a dark sedan, not the gray one that you have tonight."

Murphy couldn't keep from tensing, worried about his partner. The man behind him obviously felt his slight movement.

"Your partner is safe enough, Detective," the voice said, and Murphy thought that he could hear a slight chuckle in the words. "He is being… distracted, so that we may speak uninterrupted."

Now the hand was loosened from his mouth so that Murphy could speak if he wished, although still close enough to cut off a yell. "So there's more'n one o' ya?" he asked, keeping his own voice down.

"There are now; there were not when this started," the man answered. Murphy noted that, while there was no discernible accent, the man's speech had an unusual cadence, like someone who'd learned English as a second language, or a character in one of those old costume romances his kid sister _still_ loved to watch on TV. But he turned his mind back to what the man was saying in time to hear, "…that night; he would have killed the boy, had I not interfered."

"What boy?" Murphy asked; he couldn't remember any boys reported missing close to that time.

"He is a runaway and had just arrived. Were you not listening to me, Detective?" There was a definite growl of irritation to that voice now.

"Sorry; m' mind wandered a minute there," Murphy quickly admitted. "You say a runaway boy? Where's he now?" He could only hope for the best.

"He is safe now, with the others I have taken for safekeeping."

"What others?" Again Murphy tensed up at the thought of children in the hands of this… What _was_ he, anyway?

"Two girls—very young—the night of the first body. He meant to take them and, at the least, rape them, if not put them to work on the street. Two more girls and a boy the next night, from a brothel—they had a torture chamber in the basement…"

"That was th' place with th' body on th' front steps, an' three downstairs," Murphy mused, not realizing he'd said that out loud until the man spoke again.

"That is the place. There was another girl, older, taken off the street that night, but she caused me so much trouble, upsetting the others, that I set her free again. I saw in the news the next day that she had been raped and was in the hospital; I swear to you that she was alive and well, and untouched by me and mine, when I released her."

"I know; she's still out o' it, but we found the bastards who raped and beat her. They admitted t' first seein' her dumped out a dark car, an' cursin' it as it drove away."

"Her mouth, and what came out of it, was the reason I did not keep her," the man said, sounding regretful. "Be that as it may, you should know that I took those children to keep them off the streets and safe. They are being well-fed and cared for; they will be educated—home-schooled, I believe it is called. They will _not_ be harmed or abused. But the… predators… that prey on the innocent, such as they—those are _my_ proper quarry. Child molesters, procurers, drug dealers—those I kill, and will continue to take off the streets in the only certain way. You and those like you, you do your best, and then the courts just turn loose what you catch. Those _I_ catch tend to _stay_ caught. I _will_ swear that I only take those I catch in the act of doing harm to the innocent. So do not look too hard for me, Detective; I would very much dislike having to hurt you or your partner. Be warned, though, that I will if you force my hand. It will be much too easy to find out where you live; I have some… unusual resources at my disposal.

"Now, I am going to face you back towards the street, then release you. I _strongly_ suggest that you just walk back out there and rejoin your partner; he is quite concerned for your well-being, having heard this conversation, but not knowing where you are. Go, now, and be careful you do not come too close to finding me; I will take whatever steps I must, to protect my Stable. Good night, Detective."

And then Murphy found himself pulled away from the alley wall and pushed back towards the street. The shove he was given was powerful enough to make him stagger several steps to keep from falling and landing in the filth of the alley's pavement; by the time he'd regained his balance and turned to look back, the man was nowhere in sight. He cursed softly, both at losing sight of his assailant, and over the fact that his ID hadn't been returned.

That would do no good, he knew, so, with a sigh, he headed back out to the street, where he nearly ran headlong into his partner.

"Murph, you okay, man?" Detective Sullivan demanded, clutching the upper arms of his longtime partner and friend, as much to keep his own balance as anything.

"Yeah, Sully," Murphy sighed. "You heard all that, right?"

"Oh, yeah. Crazy as they come, I'd say," Sullivan responded as they started back down the street towards their parked car.

"Maybe, but that bastard's got m' ID," Murphy grumbled, his irritation let loose at last.

"Oh, shit; captain's _really_ gonna go ballistic," his partner commiserated. What else he might have said was cut off when Murphy grabbed his arm. They had reached their car; there, under one of the windshield wiper blades, was Murphy's ID wallet. A young punk leaned against the wall by the car.

"That your car?" the kid demanded, stalking closer to the two detectives. At their nods, he said. "Good. Earned my cash; I'm outta here." He disappeared into the crowd before they could stop him.

~o~

When tested, the only fingerprints to be found on the wallet were those of a petty thief whose picture matched the face of the young punk. Even Murphy's own prints were missing; the wallet had obviously been wiped clean before being returned to its owner.

"Know what that says, Sully?" Murphy asked thoughtfully. "Our killer's got prints in th' system. He handled that, an' I know for a fact he wasn't wearin' gloves at th' time. He got m' name from it. But there's no prints there now…"

"And we got no way to start lookin' for him; you didn't see his face."

"No, but I'll know that voice again, anywhere," Murphy assured his partner. But a part of him wasn't sure how smart it would be to try to catch that particular perp. He'd been too sure-sounding, his non-threats too clear. And Murphy found that he believed that man—every word, spoken or not.

.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Rex and Nick hunted in St. Paul the rest of the week and over the weekend. On Tuesday Rex swung past the Northside Neighborhood Clinic, only to discover that it had late evening hours only on Mondays and Thursdays; all other weekdays, they closed at 6 PM. The vampire scowled briefly; he'd wanted to ask that doctor lady if they'd had any more trouble. He doubted that they had, but you never knew about these things. Now, though, he was at loose ends. It was early still, but he wasn't hungry enough to want to hunt.

A thought struck him, causing him to grin. He drove around until he found a working public phone, then called the main police station. The switchboard directed his call to the Homicide Division, where he asked for Detective Murphy.

Again he was disappointed; Murphy was on day shift that week. With a sigh, he ended the call, carefully wiping down the phone's handpiece and every other surface he'd touched. He was pretty sure they'd never fingerprinted him in St. Louis, but it didn't hurt to take precautions. With no other options for entertainment, he headed back out to the lair, resigned to a quiet night at home.

Force of habit had him checking his e-mail; to his surprise, he found a message from Ripper. All it said was:

_ET phone home. Rip._

It made him laugh, but he climbed back into his Expedition and drove to his hidden cell phone. "Ripper, this is Rex," he said, once the call was answered.

"Thanks for calling," the other vampire said. "Listen, there's a lawyer who wants to talk to you—a JAG lawyer. He's been assigned to represent you, Rex."

"Why do _I _need to be represented?" Rex was confused now; _Taylor_ was the one who was locked up, not him.

"You're the plaintiff here, he says. You've had something stolen from you, right? Your Pet, Taylor?" the amusement was clear to be heard in Ripper's voice.

"Yes. What about unlawful imprisonment, and abuse of a captive—namely, me—while we're at it?" Rex growled in annoyance. "And my three Childer—I can't feel my youngest anymore, so I know he's dead too."

"All that and more; that's why he wants to meet with you."

"Yes; and then they'll know for certain where I am. I'm not stupid, Ripper."

"He can't tell anyone where you are if you don't want him to, Rex; attorney-client privilege, they call it. Hell, you can meet him in some neutral location, or have someone you trust pick him up and bring him to you. Whaddaya say? It can only help Taylor's case, if they see that you're willing to _try_ to work within the system."

"I will think about it," was all Rex would say about that. He paused, then asked with a chuckle, "Did my gift for Major Greene arrive yet?"

"Oh, yeah," Ripper chuckled back. "We taped it. Tell ya what, Rex: I'll send a copy of the vid with the JAG, if you'll meet with him."

"Hmmm. Bribery _may_ just get you what you want," Rex admitted. "There is another package coming, although the contents of this one may smell a bit. I found more than just vampires, this past weekend."

"I'll make sure they tape that too, then."

"Thank you. Give my Pet my regards, yes?"

"I will. Be…careful, Rex."

"Yes." Then he ended the call and sat in the dark for quite some time, thinking his situation over before finally going home to his lair.

~oOo~

Five more kills over the rest of the week—there were, after all, two of them to keep fed now. More sensational headlines in the following day's newspapers. The online versions had some interesting responses from readers, some of whom seemed to approve of what the now-infamous Vampire Vigilante was doing. The police, naturally, did not agree.

~oOo~

Rex smiled as he watched his young humans playing out on the athletic field Monday afternoon. He had to stay well back from the window to avoid being burned―this building hadn't had the windows replaced with the necro-glass yet―, but it was worth it to see them laughing and looking happy out in the fading sunshine. Today, for some reason, the workmen had left early; he would ask Collins why later. Soon, he was told, the main house would be finished, and the youngsters could be outside longer. That would be a good reward for diligence in their studies.

There were two more teenage boys, and four more young women in the stables now, although he didn't know how long he'd be keeping one of the boys. Eddie, at sixteen, reminded him a great deal of his own Childe, Edward, now lost to him, and not just in name. _This_ one had to be kept on a chain in his quarters, as he lied and stole from the others' rooms, and bullied the younger children. He'd tried to corner young Janet; he was lucky that it had been Collins who'd caught him that day. But he'd been confined closely since then, and was likely to remain so.

Rex shook his head, then went and climbed into his car, carefully parked in a shaded area. He would be _so_ glad, once the house was done and he could park down in the cellars.

It would be dark enough by the time he got back into the city proper, so he headed on out. He had a doctor's appointment, even if she didn't know it yet.

~o~

Rex parked around the back, in the alley where the clinic staff parked their vehicles. He smiled, seeing Dr. Bauneau's car there with all the rest. He locked up, then walked around the block to the front entrance and went in. "Excuse me; I need to have a word with Dr. Bauneau," he told the receptionist, who looked at him with some confusion.

She covered her uncertainty by sliding a clipboard and pen towards him. "If you'll just fill out these forms, sir, then have a seat, one of the nurses will be with you to get you checked in." She turned back to whatever had been holding her attention before he'd walked in, apparently forgetting that he was even there.

For his part, Rex was puzzled at first. He looked down at what this woman had given him, then didn't know if he felt furious or amused. The humor won… mostly. "Woman, I am not here as a patient," he snapped at her, causing her to raise startled eyes to stare at him.

There was no telling what might have happened next, if a woman who'd been there before he'd come in hadn't staggered up to the front desk, trying to return her clipboard of information. Rex caught the overly sweet scent of a human in ketosis, even if he didn't know what the condition was called; his preternaturally quick reflexes let him catch her before she could crack her skull on the corner of the counter.

"Call your doctor, or a nurse, _now!"_ Rex ordered, brooking no argument. "This woman's blood sugar is dangerously off."

"How would you know that?" the ditz behind the desk started to protest, igniting Rex's rage.

"Get someone here, _NOW!"_ he roared, realizing that he'd have to bypass the idiot who guarded the door.

"What is…Oh! Oh, my…" A nurse had come from the back to see what the commotion was about. She wasted no time once she saw the collapsed woman in Rex's arms… this was a long-time patient, a known diabetic with very unstable blood sugar. She pushed open the door to the back. "Quickly, Exam #2, please. Dr. Bauneau? It's Mrs. Gonzalez again."

Rex looked at the nurse. "Her blood sugar is too low; she passed out at the desk," he explained. The nurse just nodded and pulled out an IV set and some collection tubes, and calmly drew a blood sample after finding a vein for the IV.

"What do we have, Laura?" Dr. Bauneau asked as she hurried into the room and began to check over the patient. She ignored Rex for the moment, since he was staying out of her way; she'd only registered that it was a man, and assumed that he was Mr. Gonzalez. The nurse—Laura, apparently—hurried out of the exam room and towards the rear of the building with the filled tubes of blood she'd drawn.

"When was the last time she ate, Mr….Oh!" the doctor said, finally looking in Rex's direction.

"I am terribly sorry, Doctor; I do not know the lady. I _can_ tell you that her blood sugar is too low, if that will help you."

"How do you know that?"

"By her scent, of course—though it may still be too faint for you to detect." Rex tried a gentle smile at her, but her brow creased further in confusion

"Wait… I know you, don't I?" Bauneau muttered—to herself, she thought. Then it hit her. "Yes; you're the man who helped me the day we were robbed. Mr…"

"Julius Alexander, although I asked you to call me Rex," he answered her unspoken question gently. "I just stopped by to see if you'd had any other such problems. I seem to have chosen a bad time."

"No; I'm glad you stopped by…" the doctor began, cutting herself off as the room's phone rang softly. "Excuse me, please," she said as she answered it. Her face got very serious as her lab tech told her about a blood sugar of only 48, and she gave some orders for further tests in response, then muttered that that alone shouldn't have had her passing out.

Acting on an impulse, Rex stopped and cocked his head slightly, listening carefully to the patient. "Did you know that your patient is… expecting, Madam Doctor?" he inquired delicately. At her confused look, Rex calmly explained, "I can hear a second heartbeat, very faint and fast. It is not yours, and I do not have one."

She missed the end of his statement, fixating only on the fact of the pregnancy. She called back to the lab to order one more test, to her tech's surprise, before looking back at Rex. "Do you do that often?" she asked curiously. "Diagnose by smell and sound?"

"I am… aware of certain conditions that way, yes," Rex answered with more caution now. He stopped as Nurse Laura came back in with the fluids that had been ordered, working around Dr. Bauneau, who moved aside and began to write up her notes. The ringing phone drew her attention; Rex watched her face as she received a positive result on the pregnancy test. He smiled gently at her once more when she turned to face him again.

"Can you predict the sex of her child, too?" she asked, a bit acerbically, although she blushed slightly at the tone she'd taken with him.

"No, I'm afraid not," Rex actually chuckled back at her. "There _are_ other things that I can tell about a person, though that requires their blood."

"So… you're a lab tech?" Dr. Bauneau asked, starting to think that she finally understood. Enough time had passed that she had forgotten most of the details of her previous meeting with the vampire, especially those that ran contrary to her established sense of reality. "You're looking for a job?"

Rex reared back, momentarily insulted by her query, then saw the humor in it. He waited until the nurse left the room to fetch something else; the patient was still out of it. He chuckled as he looked at the human before him. "No, Madam Doctor, I am not a lab tech, nor am I seeking employment as such. I just know of such things, because I live on blood. You cannot ignore facts just because you find them uncomfortable, you know."

"I'm not sure what you mean," Bauneau said, but the scent of fear that he detected in the air now told Rex that she had some suspicion of what the truth might be.

"I am a vampire, but I mean you no harm," Rex told her as soothingly as he could. "I have placed you, and this clinic, under my protection. There are very few of my kind living in this city at the moment—truly, only two of us that I know of, but there are enough human criminals to keep me quite well fed. Have you had any further trouble here?"

"No…" she answered, her uncertainty clear in her voice. "You… left those heads…"

"Apparently the warning was enough, then," Rex replied nonchalantly before growing serious once more. "You are here, helping those in need. Those three got what was deserved. You do realize that if you need assistance, you may call on me?"

"Ah…. actually, I can't," she answered, fighting back a sense of unreality and trying not to look around herself wildly for some path for escape.

"Of course you— No, you cannot," Rex corrected himself mid-statement, then picked up a pad of paper lying on the counter. "Forgive me. I never gave you a way to get in touch with me; we were interrupted by the arrival of the police. Here, this is my cell-phone number." He wrote it down and passed the paper to her, ignoring the way her hand trembled. Then he looked more carefully at her, finally noting her distress. "You fear that I am some lunatic, who only _believes_ himself to be a vampire. Some sort of deranged killer, yes? I can prove the truth to you… but you must promise not to scream. I will not harm you. All right?"

She stared at him, then nodded hesitantly. He smiled once more to reassure her, then vamped out. And then Nurse Laura walked into the room.

"Damn it all," Rex cursed softly, then caught the nurse before she could hit the floor.

~o~

They got Mrs. Gonzalez stabilized, then left her under the watchful eyes of a second nurse to adjourn to Dr. Bauneau's office.

"So you really _are_ a vampire," Laura said in wonder, studying the now-human features Rex wore. _He has such lovely green eyes…_ "They never said anything about fang-marks…"

"I use a knife, for just that reason. And I do not choose victims randomly, but only those that prey on the innocent and weak."

"And then something else gets them, once you move on," Dr. Bauneau sighed, feeling discouraged.

"Not really," Rex admitted reluctantly. "I… have taken in some would-be victims. Teenagers and children—runaways. They are being cared for in my lair…"

"So you… what? Drink their blood?" Laura asked, appalled at the notion.

"No! They are much too young for that," Rex protested. "They are the basis for my Stable, yes, but not until they are grown. And even if they stay with me to provide blood, they will not be killed; they are mine, after all, to be protected and cherished… You do not believe me."

"Don't vampires kill their donors? All the movies say…" Laura stopped at the look of disgust that crossed Rex's face.

_"Hollywood,"_ he sneered, letting his eyes briefly glint golden. "They know nothing. And popular fiction has much of it wrong as well. What they do show of the truth is portrayed more like the actions of a masterless minion. A low-ranking peon," he explained at their blank looks, then sighed. "It is too long an explanation to go into. Just accept that I do not _have_ to kill if I do not wish to. I can taste their health in their blood. It is very sweet if they are not afraid, and a well cared-for stable has no fear of their Master. Wild humans taste very spicy, from their fear, and adrenalin. Those are also frequently flavored by drugs and alcohol. If you do not believe that my stable is cared for, you may examine them for yourself, Doctor."

"All right," Bauneau replied, taking up the thrown gauntlet. "When? Tonight?"

"If you wish," Rex returned easily. "I will wait here until you finish your hours, then take you to see them. My lair is being renovated, but I will even show you their future quarters, if you wish."

"Doctor, I don't know if this is such a good idea," Nurse Laura tried to caution, but Rex grinned at her.

"You know who she is with; I tell you now that your doctor will be safe with me, you have my oath on it."

Both humans refrained from asking what the oath of a demon was worth. Instead, Dr. Bauneau focused on something else he'd mentioned. "You said you can taste drugs in the blood?" she asked, curious once more.

"Yes, although I may not know what they are at first," he admitted. "Heroin and cocaine I know by taste, as well as LSD and marijuana. Others, I would only know that something was there until you told me what the taste is. Alcohol… I know what the legal limit tastes like."

"And if you can hear a fetal heartbeat, you can hear things like pneumonia and cardiac arrhythmias." Dr. Bauneau actually sounded excited at the thought.

"Yes, I could," Rex said, wondering what this human was thinking now. He didn't have to wait long to find out.

"I wonder if you would be willing to trade services?" she asked, her eyes gleaming.

~oOo~

All in all, Rex felt it to be a good deal. Dr. Bauneau or Nurse Laura would come out to the lair to check his stable once a month, and he would spend several hours every Monday evening at the clinic, pre-testing blood samples. This would save the clinic quite a bit of expense, as they would not have to use reagents for basic screening. Only they three—and, of course, the lab tech, Peter—would know what he was. All the others would be told that he was a second tech, a trainee, to explain his lack of knowledge of the machines that Peter used.

No one would be upset if he missed a Monday due to other "duties;" and he would already be in town to hunt, once the clinic closed for the night.

Yes, Rex thought, pleased. A very good trade indeed, for he would have a _good_ doctor on call in case of emergencies. And humans were such fragile creatures…

~oOo~

"What can you tell me about H386V, Sergeant?" Captain Eric Williamson asked the man seated before him.

"Sir, his _name_ is Rex," Taylor said, not even trying to hide his irritation as he wondered what this was all about. He'd been brought here to meet with this lawyer—a JAG(1) lawyer—but no one had said what was going on. He hadn't been introduced as _his_ lawyer; Taylor wondered if he'd even get one.

"I stand corrected," the lawyer said with a nod, making a notation on the pad before him. "Why did you name him that, if I may ask?"

"Captain, have you ever met a vamp?" Taylor asked, changing the subject. "They're not animals, you know. They think and reason like we do; they have feelings, wants and desires, even if we don't always understand their motivation."

"According to what a number of your superior officers have claimed, that isn't the case," Williamson said, mostly to see how Taylor would respond.

"Yeah, well, that thinking suited their prejudices, and allowed them their abuse and butchery," Taylor sneered. "Whose lawyer are you, anyway?"

"Does it matter?"

"Hell, yeah, it matters. Sir."

Williamson chuckled at that tagged-on military courtesy. "Actually, Sergeant Taylor, I'm supposed to be Rex's lawyer. He hasn't agreed to meet with me yet, though, and it's hard to build a case in his favor on nothing but hearsay from those opposing him."

"He's not gonna put himself back into _your _hands, Captain. Not after the hell he was put through here," Taylor warned, shaking his head.

"No, and I wouldn't, either," the captain said, figuring that he would get more information by agreeing. "So, what can you tell me about him? Why did you name him Rex?"

_"I_ didn't name him," Taylor answered in disgust. "It's his name; he came with it. I have no idea what his name was before he was turned. He's old, was turned during the Civil War, and he's powerful. He's a Master Vampire. He had Childer—that's a vamp's offspring—but they were killed here. _That_ was Medical's fault."

Williamson had been taking notes; now he looked up sharply. "Medical killed children?"

Taylor had to laugh. "Not the way you're thinking, sir," he answered, getting himself in hand once more. "When a vamp turns someone—makes 'em a vamp, right?—that's a fledge. It can be either a minion or, sometimes, a Childe—they use the old form of the word, with an 'e' at the end. That's only done by Master Vamps, and only if they mean to keep them as a companion through the ages, according to Rex. Some of my other sources say that, too. The bodies they use are late teens or adults; it's the… motivating demon inside that's a 'baby,' that has to mature. Rex's… I guess they would have been teenage demons, or young adults by now; I don't know when he turned them."

"His records from your unit said nothing about him having these Childes."

"Plural is 'Childer.' And no, he didn't tell us about 'em; didn't tell _me_ until after they'd been killed. I don't blame him, either; it would have been one more thing to hold over him. Right now, the only hostage you could possibly have over him is me."

"You said that Medical was responsible for his… Childer's… deaths. How so?"

"You know about the order to neuter troublemakers? Well, that would be like someone cutting _you_ for starting fights, or being drunk and disorderly." He snickered at the horrified look on the lawyer's face. "They're _not_ just animals, remember? Anyway, Rex's oldest—Edward—they gelded him an' a couple others. First patrol he went out on after that, he let the demon they were hunting dust him. He committed suicide, because he wouldn't live as less than a man. And he wasn't the first of 'em to do that, either, though Medical refused to believe that was the reason. It was just one degradation too many.

"The problem was, vamps can… 'sense' their family members. So Rex knew when his Childe dusted—you do know you don't have a body left when vamps are killed, right?" Taylor paused until Williamson nodded. "Okay. So, Rex knew, and so did his other two Childer. They set up a godawful howl of grief, and _that_ attracted Medical's attention. I'm sure you've been told that I watched over Rex like he was my kid—Corey's handler kept a pretty close eye on him, too, though not as good as Patterson used to."

"Patterson?" the lawyer interrupted.

"Frank Patterson. He lost a leg in a fight with a Fyarl demon―they're dumb but strong an' damn hard t' kill―got medical'ed out about eight months back. Rick Dobbs was Corey's handler after that. He was a good man too."

"Okay. Continue, please," Williamson said once he'd gotten the names straight.

"Right. So, Rex an' Corey were protected, but Mason had no full-time handler yet—his old handler got court-martialled for neglect. He had no protection; no one to bitch if something happened to him. So Medical took him for 'testing.' About a week or so later, Rex told me he'd dusted—he felt it happen, sir. I guess Corey did, too. Problem was, those butchers from Medical, they got no answers they liked, so they were gonna go after Rex next. I got orders to take leave for two weeks—_mandatory_ leave orders. That would have gotten me out of their way, and I _knew _Rex wouldn't survive it. So I set him free. You might want to find out what happened to Corey, though."

"We're already looking into that. It would seem that he's not the only Hunter mysteriously unaccounted for. But that doesn't tell me about Rex. What did you think he would do, once you set him free, Sergeant?"

"Do? I figured he'd kill me, once his chip was disabled," Taylor admitted with a shrug and a wry grin. "He fooled me there."

"I'm told that he did bite you, though."

"Yessir, he did that. But he never meant for it to kill me; just marks me as his. His way of thinking, I was his, not the other way around. I saw he was fed, took care of him—he saw me as what Master Vamps call a Pet, a favored human. And vamps, they don't give up with they consider 'theirs' very easily. He said he'd get me back, so he'll try. I just don't know what he'll do."

"Where would he go, any idea?"

"No, sir, an' I wouldn't say if I did," Taylor answered, defiance in every line of his body now.

"Easy, there; I'm just asking, trying to form an impression of him," Williamson said carefully. Taylor might have been shackled and restrained, but he had been talkative so far. He had confirmed what the other vampires from the Nightstalkers group had told him, even if a lot of what they'd said was merely supposition and hearsay. "We haven't received any reports of sudden activity that could be linked to vampires, Sergeant," he said, trying a new tack.

"He's not stupid, Captain; Rex would know you'd be watching for something like that," Taylor said contemptuously. "He'll still feed, but not so's the authorities would notice anything out of the ordinary."

"Actually, we think we know roughly where he went. He's been in contact with… another group, let us say," the JAG said, not realizing that Taylor not only knew of, but had actually met, some of the Nightstalkers. He passed some newspaper clippings to Taylor. "Does this look like something he might do?"

Taylor looked down at them, then smiled as he read the articles. Finally he looked back at the lawyer. "What's he say?" was his only comment.

"I'm told that he has threatened a bloodbath if you are harmed, or he doesn't get you back."

"Better believe him, Captain. He was a soldier once himself, an honorable man. That part stuck, even if it's kinda demon-y now. When he swears something, he means it."

"I was rather afraid of that," Williamson sighed, leaning back in his chair. "So, how do I get him to agree to meet with me?"

**Notes**

(1) The Army, as well as the Navy, refers to its legal division as JAG. The initials stand for Judge Advocate General, the same meaning as in the Navy. The Air Force has no special name for its legal service.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

"…so my best recommendation is to let him have Taylor. I'd say that, not only is he serious, but everyone I spoke to told me that he _will_ do what he said he would. Not a risk you should take, General."

General Durgan sat looking at this young JAG hotshot they'd sent him. General Payne sat at the table and glowered, but kept his silence. He was close to disgrace, in his own mind if not to the rest of the Pentagon. He'd _sworn_ that there would be no hint of a repeat of that Initiative debacle—at least they hadn't tried anything like Project 314. What they _had_ done was bad enough. But he put his own musings on hold as Durgan spoke.

"What are the chances of taking him out—he _is_ killing humans, even if they _are _the scum of the earth," he asked, looking as if he had a particularly foul taste in his mouth.

"Probably not a good idea, sir," Williamson said, looking just as unhappy now that someone had voiced that option. "He'd rip through the citizens there at the first hint that we were hunting him—and your Nightstalkers would likely revolt on you."

"And they would be sure to hear about it if we used military units, the grapevine being what it is," Durgan sighed and shook his head. "So that's not a feasible option."

"There're those Slayers," General Payne quietly suggested. "What if we… leaked word to them where he is?"

"He's over a hundred years old, General," the JAG said, trying to control his irritation with the man. "That's the age they usually start killing Slayers, and not only is this vampire strong, he's been exposed to military training."

"That idiot Taylor _trained_ him?!" Payne burst out, aghast at the very notion.

"I didn't say that, sir," Williamson came as close to swearing at Payne as he could, while still maintaining a professional demeanor. "He spent nearly two years in captivity, though. You have to expect that he watched them, learned from them. They are _not dumb animals!_ A dumb animal would have ripped through the nearest humans, after the kind of treatment he's been subjected to; from everything I've heard, my best guess is that he's been acting in a way that _he_ believes will please Taylor, once he gets the sergeant back."

"So, if he's not going to get Taylor back, he has no reason to restrain himself. Yes, I see the point, Captain," General Durgan completed the thought with a snort of disgust. "You need to get in touch with him, by phone if not in person. If that _is_ his current motivation, _I_ would say that we can't afford _not_ to return Taylor to him, if the man is willing to go. The carnage he could cause…"

"Stu, the man needs to be court-martialled; he's the one who let that bloodthirsty monster loose on society again!" General Payne protested, nearly pounding on the conference table they'd gathered around.

"And he wouldn't have felt the need to do that, if _you'd_ kept your damned butchers on a leash like you _said_ you would." General Durgan glared at his old colleague, his voice barely held in check. They all watched as General Payne's aggression visibly collapsed in the face of this irrefutable fact.

"All right," he finally agreed, defeated. "Turn Taylor over to the fucking vampire; they're made for each other." He rose to leave the room, walking like a man three times his age. No one even tried to stop him.

"So," General Durgan said, looking around at the men left around the table, once the door had closed behind Payne. "You have a bargaining chip: Taylor's release in exchange for as many interviews as it takes to get those bastards convicted. They are a disgrace to the service, and _I want their asses._ Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir!" came the unanimous response, and the meeting adjourned.

~oOo~

Rex had been going to the clinic on Monday nights for well over a month now, and word had spread. Monday evenings were now the busiest time at the clinic, for lab results were extra fast coming back. That new guy really made a difference, all the staff agreed. Plus he provided protection of some sort for them. Just last week a punk had come in, looking for trouble. Rex had gone to the front; the punk had taken one look at him, turned white, and quite literally fled.

So when the Homicide detective came in, asking to speak to the staff, Nurse Stacy, back from recovering from her gunshot wound, slipped into the back. "Quick, Rex," she said, trying to pull him towards the rear entrance. "The cops just came in—some detective, asking about those killings here. You gotta get out…"

He treated all the staff carefully, since they were his. "No, I can hear someone out back, also. Hush, Stacy; it will be fine. See if Dr. Bauneau will let us use her office, then take the detective there. I will meet with him privately. Just tell the good Madam Doctor to stay away from there—I don't want anyone getting hurt. Yes?" He smiled at her, projecting calm as he spoke—at least he tried to; thrall wasn't one of his gifts.

"All right… if you're sure?" she said, trying to think of another way out for him. After all, he had helped _her_ when she'd needed it…

"I will be fine. Go on, now."

She nodded and left, returning a few minutes later. "He's in Dr. B's office now," she told him, looking wistfully towards the rear door one last time.

Again he smiled gently at her, then went and tapped on the door to the doctor's office. He pushed it open without waiting for any sort of answer and walked in as if he owned the place. Then he just looked at the man waiting there, until the human had to speak first.

"I'm Detective Murphy," he said reluctantly, knowing that he'd given up an advantage, however slight, by speaking first. "I'd like t' ask you—an' all the staff here—about some murders that happened near here."

Rex was blocking the door and knew it. He grinned at the detective, watching as the man shifted uneasily.

"I know who you are, Detective," Rex said, watching as the man's eyes widened comically, before he started to scrabble for his service weapon. But Rex was suddenly at his side, before the detective had even touched his holstered gun; his hand over the human's preventing him from drawing it. Murphy froze when he felt Rex's strength once more.

"You may ask me your questions, Detective, but first you shall answer mine. Do not call for your partner," the vampire warned as he saw the human drawing breath to yell. "You will only get him hurt; there is no guarantee that it will help you even if you do."

"Who are you?" Murphy asked, not sure if he really wanted to know the answer.

Rex chuckled. "The clichéd answer would be for me to hiss out _your worst nightmare,_ but we are both reasonable adults. So, I will just say that _that_ is not of prime importance here. What _I_ need to know is, if you came here looking specifically for me tonight, or if you're just going over old ground. So, which is it? I _will_ know if you lie to me; trust me when I say that it would not be a wise thing to do."

"We were sorta lookin' for ya, if you were t' be th' fella that helped out, th' day of th' shooting," Murphy answered. He wasn't sure if it was a safe answer, but it _was_ the truth.

"Ah!" Rex said, releasing the detective's hand and stepping back. "Please, Detective Murphy, sit; we will talk like civilized beings, yes?

"In answer to your question, yes, I was here that day. I slipped out when the wounded were removed, because I did not wish any legal entanglements at that time. And yes, I saw the thieves running from the clinic—I was just driving past the front when they ran out. Yes, I could identify them again, but it will not be necessary. Their heads were left at the front door."

Murphy opened his mouth as if to ask a question, but kept his silence when Rex raised one hand, forefinger extended, to stop him from speaking. "Not yet," the vampire said, amused. "You may ask any further questions when I have finished. So:

"No, I had never been here before that day. No, I did not know anyone working here. No, I had not meant to come here before that. I am not sure _why_ I first decided to involve myself in this matter, but I decided that those responsible had to be punished in such a way as to discourage all future attempts on this place. These people are trying to do good to the ones who need help; that is a large enough task without dealing with robbers also.

"Yes, I left a horrific mess at their front door; it _has_ served its purpose, though. And no, no one here asked me to do that for them. No one saw me… _decorate_ the front of the building. No one here has any proof that I did it.

"And no, you will not be arresting me for it, because the repercussions would be worse than anything you could possibly imagine."

Murphy looked at him in shock, unable to find any words for several long minutes. Finally, though, he blinked as if just waking up. "That was… You realize ya just admitted t' murder?" he finally asked.

"Perhaps homicide," Rex mused, looking thoughtfully at him. "They were armed, and took several shots at me, so I suppose I could even plead self-defense. But I will not be going to trial. And _you_ should not have been so curious, or so persistent. Still," he sighed with a slight frown, "I suppose that _is_ your job. But you will not be arresting me, Detective." His voice was determined. "There are a number of young lives depending on me for shelter and food, and protection. Human lives. And there are still many dangerous men wandering this city, threatening all young, innocent folk."

"You can't just be goin' around killin' people, even if they _are_ criminals!" Murphy found himself protesting. "Not only is it illegal; it's not _right!"_

"Detective, tell me: do you think that the lion cares whether the antelope thinks it is 'right' to be eaten? Rex tried not to laugh at the confusion that overtook the human.

"What does that…"

"I am _not_ human; your kind are my natural prey." He ignored the disbelief he saw in Murphy's eyes, pulling the man out of his chair and forcing him back against a wall. "So far, I have limited myself to the worst sorts of criminals; do not make me regret my restraint. This city is my hunting ground; humans are my rightful prey. There are some that I choose to protect, such as the ones that run this clinic, and my Stable. The rest live by my sufferance, even if they do not know it. And there is nothing you can do about it. Your government knows about my kind—I escaped from the oh-so-tender care of your military, who thought it a fine idea to meddle with what they do not truly understand. Trust me, you could have far worse than _me_ to deal with, here," he finished, snarling through his fangs. He didn't know when'd he'd shifted into gameface; Murphy hadn't made a sound when he'd done so, but his eyes were as large as saucers now.

"You're… a _real_ vampire?" Murphy finally whispered as he tried to come to grips with this new reality. "You really drink a man's blood? An' all o' those bodies…" He fell silent, realizing just how close he was to those fangs.

"And you will not tell anyone that fact, for _if_ the soldiers come looking for me, a lot of innocent people will die, and it will be _your_ fault," Rex said, driving his point home. He relented at last, seeing the lost look on the detective's face. "I _have_ to eat, Detective. My only real food is blood, and trying to live on animal blood would be like you trying to live on… cardboard. Or bread and water. It may keep you alive, but it does not really provide nourishment. In time, I may not have to hunt, but that will be years in the future, still. For now, I do have to hunt, and it is not wise to let humans know that we really exist. So we kill, usually, since it is safer for us than just drinking a little here, a little there, from several humans. _That_ just increases the risk of discovery. If you wish, I can tell you where to find the bodies I leave behind…"

"Y' mean there're _more_ of 'em…" Murphy was appalled by the thought of even more victims of this vampire, still undiscovered somewhere.

"No; you have found them all. I have not tried to hide any, since I am… making a point with the military. They have something of mine; I wish it back. I _want_ them to know I am here, and what I am doing, but I do _not_ want to alarm the bulk of the citizenry of this city. Many seem to wish me well in my endeavors, if I can believe the comments in the online news columns."

"You use a computer?" Murphy was stunned. _A computer-literate Dracula? _he thought.

Rex laughed. "I _do_ live in this age, you know. Even schoolchildren can use them. But give me your number; I will call you when there is a body to be found."

"Hey—how come none of 'em have any money on 'em?" Murphy suddenly thought to ask.

It just made the vampire chuckle and smirk. "I have bills to pay, like anyone else. Would you rather I rob banks? Vampires do not 'get jobs;' I come here in trade for medical care for my stable."

"So they _do_ know about you!" Murphy nearly crowed in triumph.

"A few know a little, but, as I said, they have no proof that I have killed anyone. The only humans they have seen around me are well cared-for. Perhaps someday I will show you. Now, give me your phone number; I am leaving. Remember, Detective: the people in this clinic are under my protection. Keep the thieves' heads in mind, yes?"

Murphy felt his mouth going dry at that statement. _One thing, this guy sure knows how to threaten!_ he thought as he passed over one of his contact cards.

Rex frowned as he looked at it; that number looked familiar. "I need your personal phone number, Detective. I do not wish the station number; I can get that by calling the operator." He watched as the human wrote another phone number on the reverse of the card with no more resistance. "Thank you," the vampire said, then turned and walked out of the office. He left behind one shell-shocked human and several concerned nurses. Dr. Bauneau just passed the man a cup of tea and went on to see her next patient, thanking God that their night was nearly over, since they were now short on help with the lab work.

~oOo~

_Rx: Call lawyer 202-555-5997. Rip._

~oOo~

Rex growled angrily as he parked the expedition inside the old factory. He was getting sick and tired of these games, was growing tired of waiting for Taylor's return. Nick sat next to him, trying not to cower away from his Master's temper, but that only made Rex angrier. He'd never taken his bad moods out on the minion… had he?

He stalked over to where he'd hidden the phone, then cursed. Someone had come into the factory and had found and taken the cell phone. The panel he'd hidden it behind gaped wide open. Then he smelled them.

"Hey, guys, lookee what we got!"

There was the sound of laughter attempting to be evil, then Rex turned to find a gang of young toughs standing between him and the Expedition. Two more hauled Nick out of the car to force him over towards the main group. Rex met the minion's eyes and smiled, pleased that the other vampire had used only human-level strength and had kept his human mask.

"Give me the phone back, and leave while you still can," Rex said calmly, showing none of the fear the hoodlums had expected.

"Or what?" "You cops or summat?" "Shut up, asshole!"…

Rex had had enough. There may have been eight of the young thugs around him, not counting the two with Nick. They might have had knives and chains in their hands—one even had a gun. It didn't matter. Rex just let all his anger and frustration rise to the surface, and with it his face changed, the bones grinding loudly in the sudden stillness. There was the sound of Nick changing also. One last voice had time to start to mutter, "Holy Moth—"

Then there was nothing but screaming and snarling and breaking bones.

Rex hadn't left this type of carnage behind since he'd been a two-month-old fledge. His sire had beaten him nearly as bloody as the corpses he'd left behind—not for killing the humans, but for wasting their blood. He didn't care. Tonight he would gorge, and, for the first time since coming to Minneapolis, he used his fangs on a victim. Nick took this as permission for him to bite as well, and gleefully tore out human throats, drinking as messily as his Master.

Finally Rex stopped and looked around. He heard a soft whimper from one corner, far in the back, tucked under the stairs to the upper level; light from a streetlamp came through a broken upper window to dimly illuminate a hunched figure there. Nick heard it also and started to stalk the human. But there had been enough killing, now, to sate Rex's lust for vengeance. "Nick, no," he said quietly, shifting back to his human mask and watching as his minion followed his example. Only then did Rex move closer to the source of the terror-scent in the corner.

It was not a gang member, Rex found to his surprise, but a youngish man in grungy old clothes, with a couple of sacks of stuff around him and an old blanket rumpled around his feet. Homeless, Rex realized with a start, as Collins had been. And as he watched the man, the human slowly stretched out a trembling arm to hold something out towards the vampire.

It was the missing cell phone.

All Rex could do was laugh while Nick looked on in confusion. Finally Rex shook his head. "So, _you_ took my phone. Have you used it?"

The man shook his head, nearly frantic. He'd had a clear view of the slaughter that had just occurred and clearly expected to be the next to die.

"Very well," Rex said, taking the cell phone from the man, careful not to break any fingers by accident. "You will sit there and be silent; then I will decide what to do with you once I finish my business here." He turned and looked at his minion once more. "Go over all the bodies, Nick. Take any money you find, but do _not_ touch any of their weapons. Leave no fingerprints. If some of their jewelry appeals to you, you may have it, but leave the easily identifiable things."

"Yes, Master," Nick replied, pleased to be entrusted with the fund-gathering portion of this night's work.

Rex just turned away to dial the number he'd been given in the e-mail. It rang several times before being answered.

"Williamson," a pleasant-sounding male voice said.

"What do you want now?" Rex growled, his irritation rising afresh.

"Who is this?" the voice—Williamson—demanded, more curious-sounding than angry.

"I am Rex; I was asked to call this number. Now, _who_ are you?" His voice was more sibilant, as he'd gone back into gameface. The watching man in the corner cowered back further, but managed not to make a sound despite having a much better view of the vampire.

"Oh, good. Thanks for calling, Master Rex," the man on the other end said. Rex's eyebrows rose in surprise at being called by his proper title, but lowered into a scowl as the human continued, "I really need to meet with you, sir; we need to talk."

"There is no need for any discussion between us," Rex growled. _"You_ need to return Taylor to me, alive and well."

"And we will," Williamson soothed, a bit anxious. "We just need to discuss the details."

"I will _not_ be recaptured by your military."

"That's not our intent. Look, can I just meet you somewhere so we can talk? I promise: no tricks, no ambushes. You just tell me where and when; just give me enough time to get to wherever from DC. You make whatever arrangements you want, so you feel secure; I'm not trying to trap you. After we've talked, I'll get Taylor to you. We're not even going to court-martial him if you help me."

Now Rex was _really_ suspicious. "What do you need my help for?" he demanded. His eyebrows rose once more in surprise when Williamson told him; then he laughed in vicious glee.

~o~

The second call went… not quite so well.

"This is Detective Murphy; how can I be helpin' ya?" the phone was answered.

Rex smiled before speaking. "I did not tell you my name when last we met; _you_ may call me Master Rex. You will find a number of bodies at a location I will give you shortly. Know that these… men… attacked my minion and myself, without provocation. You will also find another human here—alive—in a corner. Treat him gently; he had no part in this, but he _is_ a witness. He will tell you a tale that you may not care to believe, but do not call him a liar. The only thing that _he_ is guilty of was finding and taking this phone I use now, but he returned it to me voluntarily once he realized that it is mine. Do not bother trying to trace it, as I do not carry it with me; in fact, I believe that I will replace it.

"I am going now; you will find the bodies in the old Lansing factory on Grunell Street. Good evening, Detective." Rex ended the call and looked at the man in the corner. "You heard?" …nod… "Stay here, then, until the police arrive, yes?" …nod… "You may tell them whatever you wish when they question you; be careful of the newspaper people, though." One more nod in response; then Rex turned to face Nick. "You have emptied their pockets? Good. Give this human twenty dollars, so he can feed himself tonight; then we must go. The police will be here very soon." He watched as Nick did as instructed, then got into the car and left, leaving the factory door open. Rex drove to the nearest overpass and pulled the SIM card out of the phone, then dropped the phone down onto the roadway below. He watched in satisfaction as an eighteen-wheeler ran over it moments later. Three miles away, he ditched the SIM card into a dumpster.

Then he turned for home, sated on blood and pleased with the night, despite the upcoming meeting with that lawyer, Williamson.

~oOo~

MASSACRE AT ABANDONED FACTORY  
10 MEN SLAIN; ONE SURVIVOR

~o~

"What do you mean, the witness can't tell you anything?!" the Homicide captain raged.

Murphy shifted uneasily until Sullivan came to his rescue. "Captain, he was so upset by what he saw," he tried to soothe his boss. "He was babbling about snarling animals an' fangs an' stuff. The closest usable description we could get out of him was some kind of animal-human cross… a man with yellow eyes and _big-_ass fangs. He talked about two of 'em, actually. He's with the shrinks right now."

"That guy, he had nothin' t' do with it," Murphy suddenly added. "There was blood sprayed all over, but _he_ tested clean. Not a drop on 'im, though some bloody footprints led towards 'im, then away again."

"He did say somethin' about a dark-colored car, though," Sullivan said. "A big one. We're checkin' records now, although he didn't say nothin' about plate numbers. But it's a lead—our first one."

"Well, don't just stand there, then—get back to work!"

"Yessir!" "On it." The two detectives spoke over each other, then left.

Once they were at their desks, Murphy looked at his partner. "Sully, let's go grab a coffee—down th' street, like. I gotta talk t' ya."

Sullivan nodded. Something had Murphy upset, something more than their captain. He'd been acting… _off… _for the past few days, ever since they'd talked to the folks at that Northside Clinic. He suspected that he was about to find out just what was bothering him… and that he wouldn't like the answer.

~o~

"Faith, I need you to send some Slayers to Minneapolis. Angel is in town; send him with them. There seems to be some sort of trouble there—a wild-animal attack that killed a bunch of guys. A witness said vampires…"


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Rex prowled the night streets of Minneapolis, a feeling of contentment suffusing him. The stable had finally been able to move into their permanent quarters today. Yes, it had been expensive, and it had felt as if it were taking forever for the work to be completed, but it seemed worth it now. The looks on his humans' faces when they'd first seen their finished rooms…

He froze as a… not a chill, but more of a creeping tingle… crawled up his spine. Slayers? Here, in _his_ city? Rex pushed his senses, extending them outward, searching for the danger. The feeling came from several spots up ahead—and there was another vampire lurking in the shadows behind him, he realized with a snarl, another Master. _That_ was the bigger threat to his city.

He leaped to one side and towards the Slayers—an unexpected move—as he caught the sound of a crossbow mechanism releasing a quarrel in his direction. He was far faster than they'd expected, it seemed. He had one of the girls—there were three, he noted with a twinge of pride—pinioned helplessly against his chest, her back to him, before they'd realized he'd moved. The stake she'd held was in his own hand now, its point pressing lightly up under her chin.

His human mask was still in place, much to the Slayers' confusion.

He couldn't quite keep from sneering at them. "You do me quite the compliment: three Slayers, all just for me? Your bigger problem would be the Master who was trying to slink up behind me. I do not know him; he did not do me the courtesy of announcing his presence when he came into my city. If you two young ladies wish, I will wait here with your friend while you deal with him. She will be quite safe with me until then."

"No one is safe with you around," the stranger vampire growled, finally coming out into the circle of light cast by a streetlamp.

_"Au contraire,_ most of the humans here are far safer _with_ me, than without. Who are you, who dare to invade my territory?" Rex growled at this intruder, finally vamping out.

"My name is Angel," the stranger growled, also through fangs.

Rex finally realized that the Slayers were totally ignoring this stranger, and the pieces clicked into place. "You are here _with_ the Slayers," he muttered softly; then, louder, "Did the soldiers send you for me?"

"Soldiers?" Angel asked, stopping his slow advance in confusion. "What soldiers?"

Now Rex wasn't sure what to think himself. Were the Slayers unaware…? "The ones that are using vampires to hunt other demons down near St. Louis. Chipped vampires, as they did years ago in California. You _are_ Angelus of Aurelius, yes? From Los Angeles?"

"It's _Angel,_ but… yes. When did they start doing that?" the other vampire answered with a deep scowl. The two slayers that Rex could see looked at each other uncertainly.

"Two years ago. You did not know?"

"The new Watchers' Council sent word to avoid the area, that the baby Hellmouth there was being dealt with adequately, but not why or how," Angel muttered, almost to himself, then looked sharply at Rex. "You were there?"

"I was," Rex confirmed, refraining from snarling only by great force of will. "I escaped—was set free by my Pet actually"—Angel frowned at that term—"when the 'doctors' threatened to experiment on me. He is still in custody for that, but I have been promised by a lawyer that they will return him to me, and that the so-called doctors will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law."

"Lawyers," Angel spat. "Wolfram and Hart?" They were the only ones that _he_ could think of who would pursue a verdict in _favor_ of a vampire.

"No; a military JAG lawyer. Why would a civilian firm get involved with military matters?" Rex asked, confused now himself.

"Hey, wanna let me go?" the Slayer in Rex's grip squirmed once more, actually irritated at apparently being forgotten, or at least ignored.

"Be still, young one," Rex chuckled quietly in her ear. "I will get around to you and your sisters presently." He turned his attention back to the other vampire. "So, if the military did not send you after me, why are you hunting here, in such force?"

"A number of humans were slaughtered here several nights ago…"

"Ah! Yes, I suppose I should have realized that might draw Slayers," Rex said in disgust, loosening his hold a fraction, but not yet releasing the Slayer he held. _"That_ was done in self-defense, although I did leave rather a mess behind. The newspapers were very one-sided about _that_ one, although I will admit to not reacting as I usually do."

"I'm… not sure I understand what you mean," Angel said, easing to one side a bit to try to gain a better angle of attack.

"Angel, if you try to come any closer, I will snap this child's neck, and it will be _your_ fault. You will notice that I have not harmed her, or even _threatened_ to hurt her up until now, despite their attack on me," Rex warned casually. He noted that the other two Slayers froze at the threat, casting worried looks at the souled vampire. "What is to understand?" he resumed his earlier thread, acting as if he'd never interrupted their conversation. "This is my city; I protect my own. Since I have to feed on _someone,_ I have chosen to please my Pet and only kill the worst sorts of criminals—but I normally use a knife, _not_ my fangs."

"Those boys the other night—" Angel started to say, but Rex cut him off.

"—were gang members who saw nothing but an affluent-looking victim in a vulnerable position. I was not even hunting, just minding my own business. Eight of them attacked me without provocation; two attacked the minion I had with me. It matters not that they thought that I was human. They had weapons and meant to kill. And once they had finished with us, they would have killed the homeless man who had taken shelter there for the night. Who, I might add, I left alive, and gave my permission to talk to the police—whom _I _called to notify of the bodies.

"I have been taking down criminals all spring, ever since I arrived here."

"The Vampire Vigilante!" one of the Slayers laughed, pleased at drawing the connection. "Angel, Faith _said_ that sounded like a real vamp, but our Watchers said it couldn't be, since there were never any fang-marks, and no one but criminals were ever killed."

Rex smirked slightly and gave a little mock-bow. "That was me, yes," he acknowledged. "My Pet should approve, especially since I have taken in a number of their intended victims."

"What victims?" the souled vampire demanded in frustration, feeling less and less in control the longer they talked.

"Runaway children, mostly," Rex said patiently, even though that was not how he felt. "Someday, when they are grown, they will be my Stable and provide the greater portion of my blood; for now, most are too young. They _would_ have been raped and possibly killed, or made into drug addicts and forced into prostitution if I had not interfered. Now? I have provided them with shelter, food, clothing. They are protected and are being educated. Did you not keep a Stable, before you were souled?"

"No." The flat statement told Rex all he needed to know about the other vampire's former habits.

"Right; I forgot: the Scourge of Europe. _You_ only killed. I, on the other hand, kept Pets occasionally, even before the military caught me."

"So, if you were chipped, how're you killing humans now?" one of the girls asked, puzzled by the fact that he was talking instead of just trying to kill them. He obviously didn't fear them.

"Taylor—my Pet—disabled my chip when he freed me," Rex answered her question with grave courtesy. "I was finally able to complete my claim of him then, which he willingly acknowledged. I believe he knew what that entailed; he had apparently found information about vampires and our habits on the computer, and knew much more about us than even his trainers did. He stayed behind, to give me a better chance of evading them. I have no intention of abandoning such a loyal Pet as he."

"He won't be coming back to you, because _you_ won't be here," Angel snarled, trying to advance on Rex once more. He was clearly willing to sacrifice the girl in Rex's arms if that meant he got to dust the other Master.

But Rex dropped a kiss on the girl's head and shoved her into the other two Slayers, leaving the three of them in a heap on the ground, and him free of impediments, to deal with Angel. The move took the souled vampire by surprise; he'd forgotten about the stake that Rex had taken from the Slayer he'd grabbed. Unable to stop his rush, Angel let out a roar of pain as Rex drove the stake into his right shoulder, well away from his heart. He could easily have dusted the other vampire, and the girls knew it, even if Angel chose to ignore that fact. They'd gotten to their feet, expecting Rex to attack them, but he concentrated on the other Master instead. They waited to see the outcome of that fight, shifting position as needed to stay out of the way, chattering with excitement. The two Master Vampires were fairly well-matched in height, although Angel had the heavier build. But the telling difference was diet: Angel only drank limited quantities of animal blood; Rex drank only fresh human blood and did not stint himself.

The girls weren't sure quite how it happened; the two vampires had been moving so fast that it was hard to see any individual move. All they knew was that Rex finally got Angel in a firm hold, his head pulled to the side to expose his neck. With fangs brushing vulnerable skin, he hissed his message to the other: "Leave my territory and do not return unless invited, Angel. I gift you with your life, and those of the Slayers, _this_ time; I will not be so forbearing again." He nipped Angel's neck lightly, right over the carotid artery's path, drawing a little bit of blood to make his point, then shoved the other vampire towards where the three Slayers stood in a cluster. This time they managed to get out of the way of the humanoid projectile, scattering to either side of the sidewalk. Angel measured his length on the grimy cement.

And then Rex was gone into the night, before the souled vampire could get to his feet once more.

Angel glared at the girls who had helped him up, but Chrissy already had her cell phone out, reporting back to Faith, the Head Slayer of their House, what they'd found.

"Better bring everyone back here, C," Faith said, chuckling as she pictured the fight as it had been described to her. "Make sure Angel comes, too; sounds like a situation we don't need t' be gettin' in the middle of, if the military's likely to be involved in any way."

"Will do, Faith. Be home soon," Chrissy said, nodding, then looking around at the others. "He's still here, somewhere, but Faith says we go home. I wonder if it has anything to do with those two vamps Spike brought through last year?"

"Could be," Verity replied, rubbing the slightly sore spot under her chin, where the point of her own stake had been pressed. "I know vamps are strong, and fast, but geez, I never even saw him move! Wonder what his name was?"

"We'll ask when we get back home. Come on, load up," Chrissy ordered, glaring at Angel until the souled vampire complied, however reluctantly.

Rex watched them leave from the nearby rooftops. He had his own questions to ask. Hopefully, that lawyer would have answers, when he arrived in two days. Until then, he decided, he would just wait and see, and pursue his business as usual.

~oOo~

The bus pulled into the station at exactly 11:02—three hours late. Collins shifted a bit uneasily, wondering if the military had had something to do with the delay. He waited, watching as several people got off. Most seemed to know where they were going, or at least who was waiting for them. One man, however…

He was of medium height, but very stocky. His dark brown hair, seen under the station's fluorescents, was cut severely short—what one might expect of a military lawyer, Collins decided. As instructed, the man was in casual civvies. "Williamson?" Collins asked, approaching him.

"That's right," he answered with a broad smile, his teeth very white against his tanned face. "You Rex?" he asked hopefully.

Collins just smiled back. "Nope; sorry, man. I'm just assigned to take you to him. Got your gear?"

"Yeah; just this one bag," Williamson answered, indicating the large gym-type bag he carried, not counting the smaller computer case. He was clearly disappointed.

"Okay. First stop, the men's room," Collins told him, remembering his instructions and adding a few precautions of his own.

"What?" Williamson responded, but he turned and hurried after his contact.

Collins waited until they were inside, then pulled out a large plastic zip-lock bag. "Okay," he said with a pleasant smile. "Please place your cell phone, watch, that large ring, and anything else that might be big enough to hide a tracer or a GPS tracker. This is gonna be put in a locker and left here in the station, along with any computers or jump-drives you may have brought with you. A cell phone and a laptop will be provided for your use, once you get where you're going."

Williamson stared at him in disbelief. "You've _got_ to be kidding!" he protested, staring at the man who'd met him.

"Nope," Collins said once more. "You don't do this, you don't get any closer to the Master. He's already had to send some Slayers packing; we're not taking any chances with his safety."

"We didn't send them," Williamson immediately denied what he thought was an accusation.

"Glad to hear it, although I didn't say that you did," Collins told him, but his smile wasn't quite as wide now. "I'm serious; all electronics and potential threats get left here. _You_ get to keep the locker key, by the way."

He wasn't happy, but Williamson put the listed items in the bag and watched as Collins set it to one side on top of the computer bag.

"Okay. Step two: I need to check you, to confirm that you aren't wearing a wire; _then_ I go through your bag."

"Now see here!" Williams huffed in anger.

Collins looked at him for a moment, then turned back towards the door. "Have a nice trip back to DC, Captain," he said as he started through.

The JAG lawyer had seen many people use the _I'm leaving_ ploy to get someone to do what they wanted, but this man, he realized, was dead serious, _not_ using an act. "No, wait," he called in irritation. "I _have _to talk with Master Rex; don't you understand that?"

_"I'm_ not trying to stop you," Collins pointed out, pausing in the open doorway. "I've told you what the conditions are; the rest is up to you. You _will_ note, I hope, that you have _not_ been directed to leave any weapons behind."

"Yeah, well, even _I_ know that bullets only make vampires irritable," Williamson retorted, then sighed in defeat. "Okay, you win. The bag is there; I'm not wearing a wire." He opened his shirt to prove that, standing motionless as Collins bent to run his hands up the captain's legs, impersonal but very thorough. His bag was next checked carefully, but with an eye to not messing things up too badly.

"Okay, I guess you're clean," Collins finally admitted, standing and stretching muscles that had cramped as he crouched while going through the bag. "Come on; we'll get this stuff locked up. You pick the locker, Captain." He stood and watched as Williamson did so, and placed his laptop and a tablet inside. Collins added the bag and an electric razor, then shut the door and handed the lawyer the key. "Car's this way, sir," he announced, turning to lead the way out to the parking lot, carrying the lawyer's bag.

Williamson followed him to the farthest, darkest corner of the lot, climbing into the dark late-model sedan that was parked there.

"You're late; it's made a mess of plans," Collins grumbled as he drove them down dark streets and into the parking garage at a mall. He parked the car and got out. "Bring your bag," he said, and starting walking; Williamson followed him, having no other choice.

They took the stairs down to street level, then walked halfway around the outside of the mall. No one else was in sight until they came abreast of the Cineplex. Collins relaxed and smiled when he saw that a movie was just letting out; the two men merged with the crowd and headed out into another parking lot.

Finally Collins brought Williamson to a dark-colored van with deeply tinted windows. "Okay," he said cheerfully, "in we go." He climbed into the back with the lawyer, who looked at the driver.

"Master Rex?" he asked hopefully once more after seeing no reflection in the rear view mirror, but again he was disappointed.

"Unh-uh," the driver said, then turned his attention to Collins. "What happened? You were supposed to be here three hours ago, man. The Master's worried sick."

"Sorry, Nick; bus was 'way late," Collins said with a shrug. "I'll call and tell him we're on our way in a mo'." Then he turned back to Williamson. "Okay, last thing: I need you to wear this blindfold, and these earphones. You can pick the music you want to listen to, but that's all the choice you get."

"Let's just get this over with, all right?" Williamson said in disgust. It had been a long, miserable ride, made worse by the accident that had blocked the interstate; he just wanted to meet with this damned paranoid vampire so he could get some rest.

The lawyer's senses finally blocked to Collins' satisfaction, Nick started the van and began the drive out to the lair. He took the most circuitous route possible, but eventually they pulled through the gates of the old academy and drove down the ramp to the parking area.

Rex was waiting there for them as Williamson pulled off the blindfold. "Ah, Captain Williamson," he said with a smile, although he didn't offer his hand. "A pleasure. I am Master Rex; welcome to my lair."

~oOo~

Rex had shown the lawyer to a room near his own suite, saying, truthfully, that it was late, and the bus ride had to have been long, uncomfortable, and exhausting. Williamson had to agree. He showered in the _en suite_ bathroom, then fell wearily into the bed, which had been turned down invitingly. His head hit the pillows, then he knew nothing more until late morning.

He rose, washed, and dressed, then was momentarily at an impasse. Was he supposed to stay in this room, or was he free to wander as he wished? A note propped up on a small table near his door answered that question.

Captain Williamson:

I will be up by mid-afternoon. Until then, be welcome to explore my lair and stable. You may speak to whomever you wish. Please do not leave this building. Collins will see to your needs for breakfast and lunch; dinner for all will be at 8 PM sharp. You do not need to dress for dinner. I will make myself available to you once I am up, for whatever discussion you wish.

Rex Magister

Williamson didn't know whether to laugh at the archaic missive or not. Who signed anything like that anymore—Magister? On second thought, he supposed it looked better on paper than "Master Rex" would have. But he wasn't going to argue. He had permission to leave his room, so he'd take advantage of the opportunity to see these "rescued" victims without the vampire around to intimidate them.

He hadn't gotten ten feet down the hallway before the man who'd met him the night before appeared on quiet feet.

"Morning, Captain," he said with a wide smile. "I'm Collins. You hungry? You name it; I'll fix it for you."

"Just some coffee, and maybe some cereal?" Williamson said, uncertain what this man's standing was around here. "I don't want to put you to any trouble…"

"It's no trouble; it's one of the things I do around here. Come on; kitchen's this way, if you don't mind eating down there." Collins turned to lead the way, looking back to make sure the lawyer was following. "I c'n show you the basic layout of the house; then I'll cut you loose if you want. Master wants you to feel able to ask _anything_ you want to know."

"Okay; let's start with you, then," Williamson said as they walked down the hall, deciding to test how much leeway he actually had here.

"Me? Fine," Collins said with a shrug, still relaxed. "I'm Michael Collins, former corporal, Army Engineering Corps. I used to prefer Mick or Mickey to Mike or Michael, but that's too close to 'Nick'—Master's minion. So I'm just Collins.

"I keep order in the Stable, I guess you'd say. I do the cooking, meal planning, and grocery shopping for us human-types, since the others're all teens or pre-teens. I help 'em with their schoolwork, give 'em a shoulder to cry on when they need one, and play arbiter to resolve disputes. _And_ referee for any team games outside.

"I like heavy metal music, motorcycles, and hiking; and Master Rex feeds from me every now and then. What else you want to know?"

"He lets you out unsupervised? You're here willingly?" It was hard to believe that anyone could let a vampire bite him, but Williamson was trying his best to understand this man's motives.

"I'm here willingly," Collins affirmed with a grin. "I was homeless, unemployed; had no family to go to when I got out of the service. I…had some issues when I was first discharged, and most employers didn't want to take a chance with me—that sort of thing happens to a lot of us. Master Rex took me on; I work hard every day to deserve his trust."

"So…you're a Pet?" Williamson cautiously asked, carefully watching the other man's reaction.

"No. I'm chief of his Stable. I'm a Stable member, just the oldest and the one in charge over the others. All of us in the Stable are a food source, Captain, although Master Rex says the kids are still too young for that. While Pets may be bitten and drunk from, they're _not_ considered food, but companions. They're 'favored humans.' And Master Rex only has one Pet: Taylor."

"And you're okay with being food?" the JAG asked, stunned.

"Sure. Master Vamps treat their Stables well, Captain. We're more like a dairy herd, not slaughtered like beef cattle. That's why only Masters keep Stables; younger vamps don't always have the control needed to stop feeding before killing their donors.

"Here's the kitchen; make yourself comfortable," Collins said, blatantly changing the subject. "Coffee?" He lifted the pot from its heating element and waited to pour a cup for Master's guest.

"Collins!" The peace of the kitchen was shattered as a young girl ran into the room in tears. She threw herself into the man's arms, sobbing. "Collins, Eddie…He's saying all sorts of filthy, mean stuff again!"

"Hey, now, calm down, Brittany," Collins soothed, holding the girl close and rubbing her back. He looked over at Williamson with a frown, then sighed. "Eddie's our problem child," he explained reluctantly. "I don't know how much longer Master Rex'll tolerate him. He's petty, vindictive, a liar, a bully, and a thief. He's bad enough that he's kept on a tether chain so he don't get into the others' stuff. The other boys avoid him whenever possible; the girls usually stay away from his room, because of his foul mouth. He was probably about to join a gang when Master took him; he's the only unwilling one here. I have no idea what's gonna happen to him. It's not safe to let him go; he'd turn the others in without a second thought, just outta spite.

"But come on with me; you c'n see for yourself." Collins looked at the girl sniffling in his arms. "You c'n explain later what you were doin' near Eddie; right now, _I_ think you got work to do. Hmmm?" Collins' voice was firm but gentle; the lawyer smiled as he saw the girl nod shyly.

"Okay, I'm goin'," she said, reluctantly drawing back, then looking straight at Williamson. "I hope Master Rex drains him; he says he's gonna get Sarah one of these days!" she said, anger making her eyes snap with fire. Then she turned and dashed out of the kitchen again.

"Sarah?" Williamson asked in concern.

"One of the girls," Collins replied, voice tight with outrage. "She's only nine, the youngest here. I've already stopped the little bastard from cornering her older sister once; he's lucky Rex didn't kill him for that. He may be slippery as an eel and crafty as a tomcat, but his nine lives are fast running out. The Master is dead serious about protecting these kids."

"So, you're gonna do… what?" the lawyer asked.

"Depends. If he lies to me, he'll get a paddling. If, as I think he will, he brags about what he said, and what he means to do, I'll beat the living crap out of his butt with a belt."

"Isn't that counterproductive?"

"No, 'cause if he lies, and I don't do anything more than that, he'll think that Brittany didn't tell me what he actually said out of fear of what he'll do to her when he gets loose next. Master Rex _does_ let him off his chain occasionally, so he gets supervised exercise, but the vicious little punk does manage to evade scrutiny sometimes. 'S why I said he's like an eel."

They had reached a hallway lined with doors; Collins waved a hand down the length. "This is the boys' wing; girls are on another floor. Eddie's is down at the end of the occupied rooms."

Williamson looked into the vacant rooms they passed, curious. The rooms were clean, but a monotonous off-white… until they passed one that was clearly in use. Bright, bold colors predominated; electronics and books were scattered haphazardly across the desk and the floor near the sloppily-made bed.

Collins looked in and winced. "That's Eric's room—he's… not the neatest kid here," he explained.

"Where is he now?"

"He _should_ be in the study room; he's something of a computer whiz and helps the others with their assignments. I usually check to make sure he doesn't do all their work for them," Collins admitted with a chuckle. "He's sixteen; next year he'll be old enough to be fed from lightly. _He_ says he's looking forward to it."

Whatever Williamson was going to say in response went unuttered; from farther down the hall, a young male voice began to spew forth unbelievable obscenities. The lawyer was shocked.

"Hey, stuff a sock in it, man!" another boy could be heard protesting. "If Master Rex hears you said that shit with a guest in the house, he'll have Collins peel your back off with a belt!"

The reply was unrepeatable.

"Fine; don't say I didn't warn you, though." Footsteps sounded, then a young black teen turned into the hallway and froze at the sight of Collins and the lawyer. "Oh, shit!" he gulped, looking back over his shoulder at the still-cursing Eddie.

"Eric," Collins said, carefully controlling his voice, "why don't you take Captain Williamson, here, down to the study room, or wherever else he wants to go? You have permission to show him the girls' rooms if he wants to see them; just announce yourselves, right?"

"Sure, Collins," the boy said, then cast an angry look back towards Eddie's room. "Stupid jerkoff. He _knows_ there's someone here; he's actin' out a-purpose."

"I know. Go on now. I'll see you later, Captain; I have a spoiled brat to beat, and _you_ won't want to watch."

"How old is he?"

"Old enough to know better; dumb enough not to care," Collins growled. "He's sixteen and thinks that the world owes him anything and everything he wants."

Williamson nodded in understanding. "And _I_ shouldn't be a party to what some might choose to call child abuse. I think I'll just go talk to some of the others, while you deal with this situation."

"I'll see you for lunch, then," Collins said, waiting until Eric and the JAG had passed out of sight before entering Eddie's room, a grim expression on his face.

~oOo~

"So, Captain Williamson, what do you think of my lair? Did you get to speak to my Stable?" Rex managed to keep a straight face as the JAG lawyer jumped nearly out of his skin. The man hadn't heard his host walk up; he'd been engrossed watching the young people helping each other with their schoolwork.

Williamson turned to face the vampire. "I'm impressed," he admitted truthfully. "Some might try to say that this is all for show, but those rooms are too clearly lived in."

Rex laughed. "And I only _finally_ got them into them three days ago. I shudder to think what they will look like in three months. Did you get some of your questions answered?"

"Yes, actually." Williamson leaned casually against the nearby doorframe. "Collins kindly explained the difference between a Pet and a Stable for me, and between a Childe and a minion. The…Stable told me how you had acquired each of them, and about the renovations here. I'd like to talk with you about your experiences with the Hunter Group, if you would oblige me. Is there somewhere we can go? I see no need to bring up such a difficult and repugnant topic in front of impressionable ears."

"Meaning, we should go somewhere private, that I may freely express myself in whatever language I choose." Rex actually chuckled at the lawyer's tact. _"That,_ Captain, is a very good idea; I tend to get somewhat heated, discussing those times. We can talk in my suite. Nick will bring us something to drink; it shouldn't spoil your dinner."

"All right," Williamson agreed, pushing himself away from the doorway to accompany his host.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

~o~

**Additional disclaimer for this chapter: **I do not own NCIS—ah, what a dream _that_ would be, though…

~o~

Williamson had had a list of questions, points he'd wished clarified, statements and suppositions made by the others he'd interviewed that needed confirmation. It was… interesting to learn those events from the vampire's viewpoint. Unfortunately, it sounded far too similar to something that a concentration-camp survivor might say. But the JAG lawyer persevered, and finally, after two days with the vampire and his…Court, according to Nick the minion...he had all he needed.

His data safely stored on a flash drive, Williamson was taken to the airport for a flight home to DC. He thanked God that he didn't have to endure the bus again; this time he flew first class, paid for by Rex.

Between the videos that were already in their possession and the testimony of the other victims and witnesses, Rex's testimony was just the final nail in the coffins of the accused, so to speak. The trial itself was held behind closed doors; only officers with extremely high clearances were allowed even to know that it was ongoing. Guilty verdicts were a foregone conclusion; all that needed to be determined were the sentences.

Taylor would be released to Rex's keeping, although that decision rubbed more than one officer the wrong way. Still, it had been promised, and Taylor himself seemed to be content to go to the vampire.

And no longer could vampires, the masters especially, be considered sub-human, after the statements gathered from Rex's stable. They were different, true, but more to be treated as sentient aliens than wild animals—still dangerous to humans, but sentient all the same. How to deal with Rex himself was a stickier problem.

Photos were shown of the scene of the gang-members' slaughter, and, for comparison, the scenes of some of his other slayings.

"He doesn't have a lot of choice," Williamson insisted in his defense. "He needs blood to survive; with the military out looking for him, he couldn't very well buy volunteer-donated blood. By everything I could determine, he only took what he needed to survive—once he'd recovered from what was done to him by us. He _could_ have been leaving carnage like that behind every time he killed," the captain waved at the gangland slaughter photo again, "instead of what he's _been_ doing.

"Our own medical staff—men and women who swore the oath to 'first do no harm' to a patient—took his family and tortured and slew them in the worst ways imaginable, and he has _not_ wrought vengeance upon innocent humans. He's taken young teens into his protection, along with the staff of a medical clinic in a low-income neighborhood. _If_ he doesn't change his habits—and I see no reason why he would, once he has Taylor back—I recommend that we leave him alone. He's hunting criminals who should get the death penalty anyway; hopefully, if we leave him alone, Taylor can convince him to go over to bagged human blood—rejects from the Red Cross that can't be used for patients."

"Would he, Captain?" one of the panel of judges asked.

"It's not inconceivable, sir," the JAG answered with a shrug. "So far, he's been acting in a way that he thinks might please Taylor. I _can_ guarantee that he _won't_ drink bagged animal blood, but human? It's possible."

After much deliberation, the panel decided to take a wait-and-see attitude towards Rex. If he remained "controlled," they would not attempt to hunt him down—at least, the military wouldn't. Slayers, though? Who knew. And control of the Hunter Group was passed to General Durgan by the Pentagon.

~o~

Durgan sat back as the final decision was given. He was pleased, for the most part. It bothered him, though, those Hunters who had just vanished into seemingly thin air. He'd had Colonel Townsend and Master Ripper of the Nightstalkers group allowed in for the hearings; now he looked at them as they sat in a conference room with him.

"Something still isn't right with that group," he finished unhappily. "How could they have removed six Hunters without anyone noticing? And where did the handlers go? The other men all said that they had orders, but they don't seem to be in any active-duty units—or Reserves, either, for that matter."

Ripper frowned. "Has anyone really searched that base?" he asked slowly, deep in thought.

Durgan looked at him askance. "The MPs said they looked."

"Their senses aren't as good as ours, General," Ripper replied, getting a bad feeling. "And if someone were trying to hide what they were doing, they could be jamming the detection gear the MPs used. I mean, they'd know what their own guys would be using, right?"

"And the vampires based there were so weak and run-down that _their_ senses were even worse than a human's," Townsend growled, realizing where this was going. "We need to take the Nightstalkers through that hellhole for a _proper_ search."

"Master Rex should be invited to come; he's still got one Childe unaccounted for," Ripper commented thoughtfully.

General Durgan looked over sharply. "I thought he said that the last one was dead too," he said with a glare.

"He said that he _thought _so, because he couldn't feel him anymore," Ripper explained. "If Corey was too weak, and they were shielding him, Rex _wouldn't_ be able to feel him anymore—not all the way up in Minnesota."

"He'd never go back to the Hunter base," Townsend said with a frown. "And I, for one, wouldn't blame him, either."

"He would if it were to pick up Taylor, and if the Nightstalkers were to guarantee his safety and freedom," Ripper said, sure that he was right. "I've spoken with him; he knows me. And if _anyone_ can still find the missing Hunters, it would be a Sire using his bond with a Childe—_if_ Corey is still alive."

"And if he is, where Corey is…" Townsend began.

"…the others should be," Durgan snarled to finish the thought. "And those damned so-called _scientists_ would have condemned sentient creatures to a lingering death by their silence, just to save their own asses."

"See if Master Rex will come, Ripper," Durgan ordered, rising from the conference table and heading out to issue orders to start yet one more search for the missing handlers.

~oOo~

The big black SUV pulled up to the main gate of the old missile base. The MPs were understandably nervous: the windows of the vehicle were so darkly tinted, they were barely legal. All the gate guards could tell was that there were two adult-sized passengers inside. Using extreme caution, two of the guards approached the vehicle, nearly jumping as the driver's-side window rolled down.

The driver wore Bedouin-style head coverings, overshadowing his face and barely allowing the sunglasses he wore to be visible. His features were totally obscured.

"Sir, you need to step out of the vehicle and remove your _keffiyeh,_" the guard said, trying to convey the fact that he wasn't kidding around here. "I need to see your IDs."

"They are expecting me, soldier," the man answered. "I cannot remove my protective gear here; the reason is clearly above your pay grade. Just be so good as to notify your superiors that we have arrived."

The guards were getting definitely edgy now; their weapons were almost, though not quite, aimed at the car. In the guard booth, the third man was on the phone to the base security office. The driver just waited patiently, while his passenger seemed to be dozing.

At last the guard in the booth stuck his head out. "Hey, Cuff," he called out, looking at the car curiously now. "That JAG captain who came through last night—he vouched for 'em. Said to ask what his pet's name is—that's the password for 'im."

"My Pet's name is Taylor," Rex answered without waiting for the question to be relayed.

"Right; let 'im through, Cuff," the third man said, calling at last, "Have a good day, sirs." They all watched as the black car pulled away towards the underground parking entrance, gleaming sinisterly in the noonday sunshine.

~o~

Captain Williamson was waiting by the door into the base proper as Rex parked the big SUV. "Thanks for coming, Master Rex," he said after he'd opened the driver's-side door for the vampire.

"Captain, it is good to see you once more," Rex replied, trying to sound relaxed. If this proved to be a trap, he would not live long, he knew. But he sensed other powerful vampires coming closer, and waited in absolute stillness. His companion watched his Master carefully, ready to follow his lead.

The two vampires he'd sensed walked out to meet them without any hesitation.

"Master Rex," one of them greeted him in a familiar voice. "It's good to meet you at last. I'm Master Ripper of Aurelius; this is Master Tony of Aurelius, my Second. We're here with a number of Nightstalker teams, as promised. No one will lock you or your… human up again; they'll have to go through _my_ boys to try it. I doubt they're that stupid, even if they are humans."

Rex had to chuckle at that. "It is good to finally meet you also, Masters. Aurelius, eh? Nice to see that your Clan has not been as decimated as had been believed. I cannot say I have heard of your group—officially, that is."

The two Aurelian vampires chuckled at his joke as he moved over to join them. All three ignored Collins, who just quietly pulled Rex's and his bags out of the back of their SUV, then followed behind.

Williamson fell in at the human's side. "How is he?" the JAG captain asked, keeping his voice down.

Collins looked at him. "Nervous, as you'd expect. Edgy from being overtired—we drove straight through, switching off and napping on the road. Not a fun trip, believe me."

"We have guest quarters prepared; no doubt he'll want Taylor released to him first thing," Williamson stated the obvious.

Collins skipped over that issue. "A shower, some food, and some sleep would _not_ be unwelcome, for either of us. Hope you've got human for Master Rex; he won't touch animal blood anymore. Said the shit they gave him here was starting to spoil, half the time."

"We have human, for him _and_ for the Nightstalkers," Williamson confirmed, then fell silent.

They walked through what seemed to be miles of corridors before finally reaching the living quarters. Rex and Collins were shown to what passed for a VIP suite in this base: a small kitchenette, a bathroom, and a sitting area with two small bedrooms off it. Rex prowled through the rooms, examining what was provided. He raised an eyebrow when he saw the silk sheets on the beds, but made no comment.

"We had 'em stock your fridge with blood, Master Rex," Tony told him offhandedly. "There're some large mugs in that cabinet, so's you don't hafta bite through the bags."

"Thank you; perhaps you two should just call me Rex; we are, after all, comrades, yes?" Rex said, deciding he was pleased by the arrangements so far. All he needed now... "Williamson," he called, turning to look for the JAG captain. "I wish to have Taylor brought to me now. Will you arrange it?"

"Sure thing, Master Rex," Williamson answered, fighting back the twinge of irritation he felt at being ordered around so casually. He supposed, though, that the vampire _could_ have been a lot ruder about it. Not wanting to anger him, he moved quickly to the phone by the door, speaking to base security. They'd been waiting for just this order; after a reasonably short wait, a knock sounded at the suite's door.

Williamson answered it. He took one look at the man standing there, then pulled the door open wider and stepped aside.

Taylor stood there, shifting his weight uncertainly. He was in jeans and a long-sleeved tee-shirt, and looked very uncomfortable to be out of uniform. But he grew still when he saw Rex looking at him, when he saw the smile of welcome spread over his vampire's face. He moved into the room with more confidence, then sank down onto both knees. "Master Rex," he whispered in relief.

Decorum thrown to the winds, Rex was at his side on the floor in a flash, drawing his pet up into his arms and breathing in the scent at the human's neck. No one said a thing, just watched the reunion of a Master Vampire and his cherished Pet.

The two Nightstalkers and Williamson soon left, carefully closing the door behind them. They realized that the newcomers needed to rest, but wouldn't until they were alone.

After they'd gone, Collins looked over at the two, who hadn't moved from the floor. "Master Rex? Which bedroom do you want?" he asked as deferentially as possible. _This_ was Taylor, the longed-for Pet. Collins knew that he himself ranked just above a clod of dirt in the vampire's eyes—or so he thought.

Rex drew back from Taylor just a bit. "I have much to tell you, Rob," he said, contentment in his voice. "First, though, this is Collins; he is Chief in the Stable I am assembling. Of course, he is also the only one old enough to feed from so far…"

"I heard," Taylor chuckled quietly. "Captain Williamson told me about your juvie runaways. I ever tell you I think you're one sharp vamp, Rex?"

"Oh, I believe you _did_ say something about my teeth, when last I saw you," Rex said, trying for a straight face, but failing.

"Hm, yeah, I guess I did at that," Taylor laughed outright, then sobered. "Master Ripper says you'll need to renew your claim; he says that it's fading."

"I know. I will renew it when we have settled in our quarters," Rex said, a gleam in his eyes. "I have _missed_ you, Taylor."

"Yeah. Know exactly what you mean, Rex. Missed you too, O vamp o' mine." And Taylor let his body sag back against his Master's once more, not even complaining when the vampire picked him up and headed into one of the bedrooms.

Behind them, Collins smirked knowingly. Nick had been telling him just what Rex would expect from his Pet; he couldn't help wondering if Taylor really knew what he was in for. For now, he just left Rex's bag to the side of the bedroom door where it wouldn't be tripped over, and carried his own into the other bedroom. He'd see to them later; right then he had a bed calling his name, and he meant to respond to it wholeheartedly.

~o~

It was late evening before Rex made an appearance, Taylor walking behind him. The human looked at Collins in the sitting room and blushed a deep scarlet; the other human grinned but said nothing about how stiffly he moved. Or about the noise the two had made…

The vampire looked like a cat who'd just eaten a canary that had been marinated in fresh cream. He had his Pet once more, and his claim had been renewed. Unlife was good…

Collins rose and went into the kitchen without a word; a short time later, they heard the microwave beep at the end of its cycle, then the human was back with a large mug of warm blood for his Master. He looked at the other human. "Taylor? I've got a pot of coffee in there, or I can make you a cup of tea, if you'd prefer," he said as a peace offering.

Taylor grinned and waved a hand at himself. _"Poof! _I'm a cuppa tea," he deadpanned, then cracked up at the surprised look on Collins' face. "Coffee would be great; thanks. Collins, right?"

"Right. Whattaya want in it? I think there's some cream in the fridge…"

"Black's good—maybe one sugar. 'M not really hungry right now."

"He will eat later," Rex announced quietly. "He will show you where to go for meals while we are here. We will not be staying long; I have one more task to do here, then we will go home."

"Be glad for it, too," Collins muttered softly. "This place gives me the creeps."

"You shoulda been here four, five months ago," Taylor said, his voice grim. "It's all sunshine an' puppies now, compared to then."

"Thanks, but no thanks; I'll pass on that." Collins shuddered visibly, then looked at his Master. "Anything else I can get you?"

"That will be all for me; get your own drink, and Taylor's. I must talk to Ripper and whoever else will be searching with us," Rex said, but he didn't appear to be really paying attention to his humans. He seemed far away to Taylor, as if he was searching for something…

~o~

They started down at the vampire holding cells—the kennels, as Admin used to call them. Rex noted that the vampires held there looked much better fed now, although many had haunted eyes. They looked at him oddly, the ones who recognized him, as he strutted past the cells with no leash, followed by a docile Taylor and Collins. Quite the reversal of positions…

Of course, Rex saw humans he remembered, and who clearly remembered him. Most of those seemed even happier to see Taylor out of his cell at last, although several looked at him oddly as he followed his Master. At least Rex hadn't put his Pet on a leash, even though he had the right.

"Damn, Rex; you were held here for nearly two _years?!"_ Shock and horror colored Collin's voice as he looked around them at the captives in the kennels. The Nightstalkers with them ignored the human's comment; they had seen this hellhole four months before, during their surprise inspection.

It was almost amusing. "I take it that your quarters do _not_ look like these," Rex said with an absent chuckle, intently watching the approach of a squad of black-clad soldiers instead.

"Uh…. _no,"_ Tony snarked back, but he followed the gaze of the older vampire. _Soldiers? What's the big deal? _He worked with them all the time. These _did_ look uneasy, though.

"Taylor! Good to see you, man!" one of the new humans called out, ignoring Rex and making Taylor wince at the slight to his Master—he'd done a _lot _of reading, once they'd given him computer access in his cell.

Eyes snapped to Rex as he growled. "You do _not_ speak to him without approval!" he snapped, maintaining his human mask despite his irritation at their poor manners.

The men just looked at him in confusion.

It was Ripper who calmed the irate master. "They don't know the niceties, Master Rex," he said with a barely restrained grimace. "I doubt they're trying to be insulting; they're just glad to see your Pet free once more. It's been quite a while for them, and I doubt that they were allowed access to their friend."

"They were never encouraged to learn more about us," Rex conceded grudgingly, pushing his annoyance down once more. He glanced back at his Pet. "You may go and greet your friends," he said quietly, oddly pleased when Taylor seemed reluctant to leave his side. Slowly his human moved away to interact with his former comrades.

Again Rex looked around, picking up a familiar scent approaching.

For his part, Graham Miller was uncertain how to feel about the situation. He'd been told that the military's stance on the Hunters had been altered. He'd seen the Nightstalker teams, both when they'd arrived for that inspection months earlier and the day before—that was how they _should_ have been treating the vamps here, although the humans should be the lead in each team, he thought. Now he worried what the backlash from Rex would be.

Miller nodded with careful politeness to the unrestrained vampire. There had been a quick briefing for his men this morning, held by Colonel Townsend of that other vamp group. Some of what he'd said made what he'd seen back in Sunnydale make sense at last. Now, at least, he knew what would be expected from him.

"Master Rex," he greeted the vampire in a controlled voice, carefully not meeting his eyes, although he watched him closely.

"Miller." Rex studied the human, remembering the early days here and his desire, quickly shed, to rip the human's throat out. _This _had been one of those who'd tried to treat him decently. He was a friend of his Pet's… "It is good to see you once more," he finally let himself admit, and smiled as he saw the human relax in response.

"We're here to help you search, Master," Miller explained, still careful to address the vampire formally. He looked good now, powerful, much as he had when he'd first been taken by them. "They never let _us_ look before this; apparently we were suspect just by association. They brought in special MPs to stand security here."

"We both know that they are fools," Rex agreed, letting his disgust show. "But enough. Let us begin our search. We know that the missing Hunters are not here in the kennels. Perhaps we should begin at Medical?"

"You're probably right," Miller agreed, sneaking an unhappy glance at Taylor, who stood just behind his Master again. Rex's Pet was carefully maintaining a blank expression on his face. "Do you mind…?" Miller asked, nodding in Taylor's direction.

"He is your friend," Rex said with a nod and the slightest trace of a smile. "I have no objections." He watched, pleased as the shuttered look melted from his Pet's face as he was reunited with his friend again.

The group, meanwhile, had been moving towards the wing that housed the Medical section. Now the humans—Miller's men—activated their detection gear, reminding Rex strongly of the many patrols he'd been on with them. He let himself assume his gameface, noting that the other vampires in the group followed suit. From Medical they split up, branching out and going down deserted corridors into the unused portion of the unexpectedly large base.

Rex watched the human tech who'd stayed with Taylor, Collins, and him. The man seemed dissatisfied with the way his equipment was performing. "What is wrong with your gear… Specialist?" Rex asked, striving for a polite tone.

"Don't rightly know," the human grumbled, paying more attention to his readouts than to whom he was speaking. He turned a slow circle where he stood, waving the device's wand in front of himself as he did so. "That's freaky," he muttered with a scowl.

_"What_ is?" Rex reiterated, struggling to maintain a grip on his temper.

"Picks up the vamps behind us just fine, but you?" He looked up at the yellow eyes of the vampire beside him and added a hasty, "…uhh, sir. You show up, but there's a lot of static, like something is interfering…"

Collins looked around carefully. "There're a lot of pipes and electrical conduits down here," he said slowly, talking mostly to himself. "They could be carrying the interference—conducting it, like. Is it more static-y in any particular direction?" he asked with a sharp look at the tech.

"Not really," he answered slowly as he circled with the instrument once more.

Rex watched him, then looked more closely at the corridor they were in. It was far from the occupied areas of the base, and one level lower; Medical lay between their current location and everything else. It would be a good hiding place… He let his senses expand out from their group, farther than usual. He would be blind to the area immediately around his body, but his Pet and his human minion would guard him against direct harm…

He searched his memory for the feel of the old link with his Childer. Two he definitely knew were gone. Corey, though… He had been able to feel him for a few days after he'd been released; then he'd been too busy to pay attention to the bond with his last Childe. There had been nothing when he'd felt for it once more, and he'd assumed—but perhaps, as Williamson had suggested, it had been due to the distance between them.

Well, he was not far away now. He searched for any touch of a bond with his Childe, any hint of hidden vampires. Finally, barely discernible, he caught the faintest trace. "This way," he said, striding off further into the dim, echoing hallway. The others followed after him, Taylor remembering to call back to the other search parties that they might have finally found a lead. The heavy static over their comms only lent credence to the theory of some sort of masking device.

~oOo~

"Mr. Secretary, thank you for taking this call," General Durgan said as courteously as he could, carefully controlling his features. Damn video calls anyway; he _really_ disliked this little bootlicker, but the man _was_ the Secretary of the Navy.

"I'll admit to some surprise, General…?"

"Durgan, sir. I have a problem that I was hoping some of your people could help with," Durgan said, reluctant to ask for help from _anyone,_ but especially this political weasel. Unfortunately, the Navy had one of the best investigative teams in the military. If anyone could find the missing handlers, it would be the MCRT unit of NCIS. He'd deal with very Devil himself if he had to, if that was what it took to find those men.

"What can the Navy do for the Army, General Durgan?"

_Smug bastard,_ Durgan thought before answering, "There's a joint operation ongoing, Mr. Secretary, but the people who _were_ in charge of the program seem to have… misplaced some of their personnel. One of the missing men is a Marine; I'm hoping that if we can find Corporal Dobbs, we'll find the others as well. I'd like to set NCIS on their trail, if I could."

SecNav Jarvis paused, trying to decide if this could possibly benefit him somehow. Oh, he'd turn it over to NCIS in any case—let that bastard Gibbs and his team of hotshots do the work; _he_ would be the one to get the credit, naturally… "I'll contact NCIS Director Vance, General. I'm sure they'll be glad to help the Army out."

_In a pig's eye, they'll be happy,_ Durgan thought. "Thank you, Mr. Secretary. I'd hoped that I could count on you." _Now all I have to do is deal with the temper of the legendary Gibbs._ He hid his sigh and prepared for the next conference call.

That call was actually pleasant, considering the circumstances. The Director of NCIS, Leon Vance, was actually helpful; and the MCRT leader, Special Agent Gibbs, immediately set his best techno-geek, one Special Agent Timothy McGee, to work searching all back records for Corporal Rick Dobbs, USMC. General Durgan smiled grimly. He strongly doubted that anyone was good enough to hide information from these people. And once they found Dobbs, they would no doubt know how to find the other five men.

And then the fur would well and truly fly.

~oOo~

It took them over five hours of searching, but Rex's group finally found the concealed door to the lab. To call it a secret laboratory was somewhat clichéd, but that was exactly what it was; it didn't show up on any of the schematics of the base at all. And once they were inside, Rex nearly attacked the poor human tech in his rage.

The place was enclosed in a Faraday cage—a counter-espionage device that blocked all incoming and outgoing signals, unless specially shielded, and was apparently the source of the static. Once it was switched off, their comm units cleared of all the interference that had hampered their search.

Just off the main area of the lab were small rooms, each with a heavy steel exam table bolted to the floor. The desiccated bodies of five vampires lay strapped down securely to five of those tables; the sixth held only a pile of dust. By the looks of them, the other five weren't that far away from dusting either. They had been at least four months without any blood, hurt, and abandoned to waste away, forgotten.

They found Corey strapped to the second table, his abdomen laid open, the edges of the incision held apart by retractors. The rest were in no better shape. The sensor tech threw up in a corner at the sight.

Taylor took a more practical approach: he called for help. "This is Taylor; bring us five stretchers and some blood; we found them. Follow corridor Blue Twenty-Eight north, then take the sixth hallway to the right. We'll watch for you. And we need a forensics team and an evidence tech. Make it snappy, before Master Rex kills someone." Taylor ended the call, looking back in time to see Rex rip open his own wrist and dribble the blood between the mummy-like lips of his youngest Childe.

~oOo~

It only took two hours before McGee had the answers. The missing Marine had been stashed in a sanatorium, his records clumsily redacted to hide where he'd been sent. In the course of his search, he discovered that five other men had also gone missing at the same time, from the same top secret black ops unit; their records had been dealt with the same way. In each case, though sent to widely scattered mental institutions, the men were all under observation for delusions, claiming that they had worked with vampires and had killed demons.

Gibbs didn't know what to think of that, but he turned in the finished report to Vance, who passed it on to General Durgan. The Army would take the responsibility for retrieving the missing men. Inter-service cooperation at its finest. He put it out of his mind, already busy dealing with the next crisis to come their way.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Rex and his entourage ended up staying at Hunter Base for nearly three weeks. He worried about his stable, calling the lair every night to check on them; he'd been forced to leave Nick behind to see that the youngsters were fed, which left Rex very nervous. Only his association with Dr. Bauneau made this situation possible; she brought bags of human blood out to the lair each week for Nick to feed on, since Rex didn't want him hunting by himself. He didn't want to risk losing the minion while he was out of town.

The "lost" vampires' recovery was very slow. One more dusted as the Nightstalkers' own doctors worked on them; fortunately, that was not Corey. They were all so desiccated that they had no awareness… and, worse, no swallowing reflexes. Their open wounds couldn't even be closed yet; the tissues were so dried out that they cracked and broke off when the doctors tried on one of the vivisected vampires. In desperation, they'd carefully inserted narrow tubes into their stomachs using laparoscopes, so they could be fed blood; only then would they stand even a chance of recovery.

Since Sires' blood had a potency second only to Slayers' blood, Rex had himself bled each day, his blood to be added primarily to Corey's daily ration. As Master Vampires, both Ripper and Tony also donated; their blood was added to some of Rex's and fed to the other three victims of "scientific" sadism. At first, no one could see any changes, for better _or_ for worse, but finally, at the end of the first week, first Corey's, then the others' skin began to be pliant. Freshly donated human blood was poured into the gaping wounds, which were then finally stitched shut.

More days passed before any of them showed any signs of returning awareness. It wasn't Corey first this time, but a young Italian-looking vamp whom Taylor said was called Joey.

By the end of the second week, all four were awake at last, although they were all extremely weak. The tally of survivors was three Childer and one old minion; the minion saying he'd rather be staked than be left with the Hunter Group. So Colonel Townsend of the Nightstalkers agreed to take him on a trial basis, despite the fact that Wyatt would need closer supervision than most of their vampire contingent.

Joey was doing very well, as was Corey. The last Childe, Ray, was slowest to recover, probably due to the fact that he had the worst injuries. He was from a very low-status line, a young line by vampire reckoning, and had no unliving Sire or GrandSire; due to that fact Rex decided that he would bring Ray home with them once Corey had recovered enough to travel. Corey seemed to be very friendly with him, so Rex thought that he might make a good companion for the younger vampire, once he swore fealty. He could always be staked later, if things didn't work out.

Joey, it turned out, was the youngest Childe of the Master of Chicago. When questioned, he revealed that, on a whim, he'd gotten on a train for a snack: _The City of New Orleans._ He'd gotten caught on board by daylight; the train had been all the way to St. Louis before nightfall made it safe enough for him to leave the baggage car to try to make his way back north once more.

Rex thought it fortuitous that Joey was there. He would bring the Childe back to his Sire's Court and take official mastery of Minneapolis under Don Marco di Salvatore, in whose territory Minnesota lay—a territory which, in the vampires' geography, included all of the Central Plains, as well as extending up into the central portion of Canada. The return of his favored child should more than cover any tribute required to establish himself with the Territorial Master.

Of course, the humans weren't aware yet of Rex's plans to liberate the three Childer from the military's custody.

Rex's musing were interrupted by the restless shifting of his Childe. "What is troubling you, Corey?" he asked, realizing just how unhappy his youngest looked.

"You're gonna think it's stupid, Sire," Corey answered, much more formally than Rex had expected. He looked to the side, trying to mask his embarrassment.

"Tell me; if it is something I can fix, I will," Rex said, looking closer at his Childe. "It may not be as foolish as you think, since it bothers you so."

"I miss my han… my Pet. They sent him away somewhere; he was really upset, Sire, at the orders he'd been given. He told me about it; then he was just _gone._ And then they took me…" He let his voice trail off, not wanting to think about what had happened to him next. He'd been lucky, he knew; the butchers had just started on him when they'd been suddenly called away, never to return. He knew, now, that his unexpected reprieve had been due to the surprise inspection of the base by General Durgan and his crew and the subsequent arrests of many of the Medical staff.

Rex just laid a surprisingly gentle hand on his Childe's arm. "I will get Taylor to sit with you a while, okay? I am going to see if they have discovered yet where those men were sent. If they have, I will see if I can get your Pet back for you again. And that was _not_ a stupid thing, Childe; I greatly missed my Pet while he was gone, as well."

"Thank you, Sire," Corey said softly, and turned a smile on Taylor when his Sire's Pet came and sat beside his bed. Of course, his warm welcome might have been partially due to the mug of fresh blood he'd brought with him…

~o~

Rex wandered through the base fairly at will these days. The Nightstalkers had returned to North Carolina and their own duties there, but Captain Williamson was still at Hunter Base to watch over Rex and his humans. Now the vampire sought him out, finally locating the captain in what passed for an Officers' Club. He calmly settled himself at the captain's table, ordering a drink from the waiter as if Williamson had been waiting for him all along. "Tell me: have they found the missing handlers yet?" Rex asked, keeping his voice soft enough not to be overheard.

"Actually, yes," Williamson said, disgusted by the duplicity of Colonel Wu. "The Chief Medical officer had orders cut sending them for psych evaluations. The men weren't told that was what he'd ordered, only that they were being sent for in-depth physicals that couldn't be done here—_and_ that the doctors they'd be seeing had been read in on the operation, so it was safe to discuss any concerns they might have, and to answer any questions posed to them. Naturally that was a blatant lie on Wu's part; when the men mentioned hunting demons with vampires, they were diagnosed as delusional and locked away. We're _still_ trying to get them released back to us. Why do you ask?"

"My Childe misses his Pet and wishes him back. I can understand his feelings only too well," Rex answered with a wry smile. He'd grown rather fond of this lawyer; he'd worked very hard on Rex's behalf. It might be worth it to keep this human—or at least claim him, but let him run free to do the work he clearly excelled at. Yes, Rex decided, it would be best to claim him and then let him run free. He could then call on him whenever he needed his services… and the lawyer would still be happy.

"Uhm, Master Rex, I'm not sure the military would allow that…"

"I'm sure you can arrange it, Captain," Rex replied, rising from the table with a smile. "You're very good at what you do; this _is_ why you're _my_ lawyer, yes?"

"I suppose so, yes," Williamson agreed, not realizing that he'd misunderstood the vampire's intent. He thought that Rex had meant his being assigned to the case, not that he was accepting the vampire's claim. But of such misconceptions are comedies made…

"Good," Rex said, his smile even wider. "I will be in my quarters with my Childe and my Pet. You can find me there, once you know when Dobbs will return. It will help the recovery of all the lost ones, if they get their Pets back, Captain. Familiar faces, yes? Men they trust, after what they have been put through?"

"Good point," Williamson said, grinning now also. "I'll put that suggestion through to General Durgan; he can make it happen if anyone can."

"Very good. You know where I will be; until then…" And Rex was gone, feeling very satisfied with what he'd set in motion.

~oOo~

Three days later, six bedraggled humans were returned to Hunter Base, despite the extreme protests of the psychiatrists who had committed them. Two of them were devastated by the news that "their" vamps had dusted; these were promised positions with the Nightstalkers, having been recommended by the other handlers and the soldiers with whom they'd worked closely on their patrols.

Dobbs was appalled at the condition Corey was still in; Joey's handler, Sam Chen, burst into tears. Only Ray's handler seemed unaffected at being reunited with his former charge; Rex decided to leave him behind when they left, since Ray didn't seem to care either way about him.

At the end of three weeks, Corey, Joey, and Ray were all able to stand and walk on their own, even if they were still somewhat wobbly on their feet. Rex set Collins to packing their bags and loading the car, while he sent for Williamson one last time. The JAG answered his summons promptly.

"I have been very pleased by your service, Captain Williamson, so I have decided to reward you," Rex said, reaching out his hand towards the lawyer. The captain, thinking that Rex meant to shake hands—something he had yet to do—stretched his own hand out in response. He was shocked speechless when the vampire raised his hand up towards his face and carefully bit into the lawyer's wrist, drawing out a mouthful of blood before nicking his tongue on a fang and then licking the wound closed.

"There," Rex said, very pleased with himself. "Now all the others will know that you are truly mine—that I have found you acceptable."

"But…but I can't _stay_ with you!" Williamson sputtered, very worried over how Rex might view such a rejection.

"I know; that is quite all right," Rex replied calmly. "You may go back to DC, or wherever your orders send you. You will just need to come back to me every four months or so, that I may renew your claim when it begins to fade. You do _not_ want to be viewed as a rejected Pet, _ever. _As things now stand, demons will smell me on you, and _most_ will leave you alone, for fear of angering your Master. I will call you if I need your services again; I _do_ have your number, after all.

"Thank you for all you have done for me and mine. We will see you again, I am sure." Rex smiled at the dumbfounded human, then left the suite for the last time, trailed by the rest of his party.

~oOo~

They made the drive north in a leisurely four days, staying an extra night on their first stop. It reminded Rex very much of his first trip away from the base, but the company made it much better, despite the slight crowding in the car. Blood was not a problem; Collins and Taylor had packed a more-than-adequate supply of bags, liberated from Medical's refrigerator. Rex had brought the degausser south with him, in case someone had ordered Taylor chipped to track Rex's movements, but he had learned that _that_ would not be necessary. Having it with him let him now disable the control chips in the Childer he had stolen away from the military.

Finally they pulled up to the main entrance of the Court in Chicago, just before midnight. Rex went in first, heeled by Taylor, as was his due; the others hung back so Joey wouldn't be recognized until Rex was ready for him to be presented.

~o~

Don Marco, as the Master of Chicago preferred to be called, sat upon his throne in a foul humor. It had been years since he'd last seen his favorite Childe, but until a few months ago, he'd known that the young vamp was at least alive; even if no one could seem to find him, he was alive _somewhere._ Then the bond was gone, and Don Marco got vicious. Few vampires were reckless enough to petition him for anything anymore, for he was as likely to have them staked as he was to grant their requests. So he was surprised when Rex, a Master of a line he'd never heard of, came forward to ask to be Master of Minneapolis under him.

"Who the hell're you, t' ask somethin' o' me like this?" Don Marco bellowed, letting his frustration and rage loose.

"I am the vampire who knows what happened to your Childe Giuseppe, and where he is now," Rex calmly replied, causing the court, and Don Marco himself, to freeze as his words registered.

_"What..did..you..say?"_ Don Marco finally asked, spacing his words out carefully.

"I said that I know where Joey is." This time Rex kept it simple. "I found where he was, and brought him away from the people who held him captive. They had severely injured him, as well as several others; he is still weak, but he is getting stronger every day. Do you wish to have him back, Don Marco?"

"You bring me back my Childe, an' you can have all of the Twin Cities," (1) the Master Vampire said, getting choked with emotion. "If you're lyin' ta me, though, so help me…"

"I am not lying to you; he is right outside the doors, along with my Childe and both their human Pets." Rex didn't let his nervousness show, for this could still work against him. Joey was recovering, true, but he was still very weak. And vampires often killed the weak and injured…

"Hey, youse guys! Bring my Childe in here; don't be hurtin his human, neither!" Don Marco bellowed at his doorkeepers, not wanting any accidents. The room was absolutely silent as the doors swung open, and Don Marco's favorite Childe limped into court, closely attended by his Pet. Rex's Childe followed right behind, but headed over to stand by his Sire. Both Pets took a knee beside their respective Masters, to lend support if the recovering vampires should need to steady themselves.

"_Who did this ta my boy?!"_ Don Marco demanded, his voice cold and dangerous.

"Some humans, who are in a _lot_ of trouble," Rex answered, sounding much calmer than he felt. "They are very likely to be slain by their own authorities; if they are not, I will see to it myself, for they had my last Childe also, _and_ dusted my other two Childer. I have a good lawyer already working on it."

The Master of Chicago fought to control his temper. Yes, his Childe had been hurt, but this other vampire had _lost_ Childer to them…and thus had the greater claim for vengeance. "What's your name, anyway?" Don Marco suddenly asked, reaching a decision.

"I am Rex, Childe of Zachary, a Master of the line of Whittington," Rex answered with as much dignity as he could muster.

Don Marco looked him over carefully, then smiled. "Yeah, well, now you're Master of the Twin Cities. _Salud!_"

Rex just smiled and bowed low in response to his new Territorial Master. _Yes_,he thought in contentment, _unlife is now very good indeed._

**Notes**

(1) Minneapolis and St. Paul, MN, are two cities that have merged into a single metropolis; however, according to Wikipedia, the term "Twin Cities" actually refers to a larger geographical area that includes a total of 186 cities and townships. A map can be seen at Wikipedia under "Twin Cities."


End file.
